


thanks, dad. love, hana

by Snowsheba



Series: thanks, dad. love, hana [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Dad: 76, Father-Daughter Relationship, Friendship, Gen, a healthy one!! a wholesome one!!, chapters start at 1k words and slowly ramp up to 10k words in length, hana is a soldier and too few recognize this, hana-centric, in which the author writes a fic about dad76 and hana and it becomes a bit longer than she expected, now with more exploration of hana "d.va" song's character, you will not find gremlin hana here turn back now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 74
Words: 217,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7328341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowsheba/pseuds/Snowsheba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>D.Va has seen a lot of things in her time as a mech operator - tragedy, stupidity, bravery, strategy, desperation, to name a few - but she will readily admit it’s the first time she’s seen anything like this.</p><p>Or: a teenager and an old man find Overwatch - and maybe a family, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. shady deals in a back-alley corner

**Author's Note:**

> _Prompt_ : "Prompt fest, huh? How about Soldier 76 convincing D Va to join him on his way to investigate the new Overwatch? They'll meet in battle at first, because 76 is a criminal and D Va is a member of the Korean military, but I'm sure you can make them put aside their differences for the greater good."
> 
> i love overwatch so much but this was still a bit of a doozy to write.

D.Va has seen a lot of things in her time as a mech operator - tragedy, stupidity, bravery, strategy, desperation, to name a few - but she will readily admit it’s the first time she’s seen anything like this.

She and her squad are deployed in Hanamura, Japan. There have been reports of Overwatch activities around the area, which is slightly odd given the Shimada clan’s foothold here - in fact, Hanzo Shimada himself had been spotted here just days earlier, coming and leaving before anyone could do much more than report his presence. Though Hanzo has no ties to either the clan or Overwatch, at least as far as South Korean intelligence knows, the two are likely not coincidental, which brings her to her current situation.

She pops the bubble of her gum as she props her chin on her hand, observing the man in front of her; though she can’t see his face because of his visor, she’d peg him to be middle-aged, if not older, and he stands in a way that screams  _I’m dangerous and I know it_. Even from the safety of her mech, Hana can’t help the twinge of nervousness in her gut - the rest of the MEKA squad is spread out about the city, so if she gets into a conflict, she’ll be on her own for at least thirty seconds.

But, in all honesty, she’s more surprised than worried, because what she’s seeing now is recklessness - sheer recklessness for one’s life. In her limited experience of fighting omnics, she has definitely never seen this kind of brazen behavior before.

“You know,” she says conversationally, “You have a million U.S.-dollar bounty on your head.”

Soldier: 76 merely grunts, hefting his plasma rifle. He hasn’t pointed it at her yet, but she keeps her thumb on the trigger of her mech’s defense matrix.

“I am also livestreaming this, so there is a good possibility millions of people know where you are,” she adds. It’s a bluff, but not one that can be disproved.

That gets his attention, and his head turns so he can presumably look at her. His back is still to her, but she knows better than to shoot; the bounty had said he had to be alive, and, to be honest, she’s curious. She knows he’s been striking at former Overwatch stations to steal tech and information, so it’s not surprising that he’s here. The recent reestablishment of Overwatch, and the rumors that Overwatch agents are likely nearby, would no doubt get the man’s attention.

“Turn it off,” he says at last. His voice is a low rumble.

“Tell me why you are here first,” Hana shoots back, watching his every move. She’s been doing this long enough to know when and where to strike, and so far, 76 hasn’t shown any indication that he plans to attack her.

“It would be easier to kill you,” he says as soon as she thinks this, but she still gets the sense he won’t do anything more than threaten her.

As it stands, though, her curiosity trumps her caution, and so she reaches up and goes through the motions of turning off a livestream, pressing the necessary buttons to presumably shut off her cameras. “There,” she says. “Now will you tell me?”

“You already know,” he answers.

“I will make my question more precise,” she says, resisting the urge to sigh. He knows what she meant, she can tell. “Why steal Overwatch tech? What is your interest in the organization?”

“That’s two questions.”

“I am so glad you are able to count,” she retorts, and she lets a smirk curl her lip when he huffs on a laugh. “Answer, please.”

“Why should I?”

“I am curious. Why not humor a young pretty girl asking about your life?”

“Mm-hm. You’re D.Va. You’d be more interested in your  _Starcraft_  aliens than an old man like me.” She frowns at that but doesn’t interrupt as 76 swings his rifle over his shoulder, finally pivoting on his heels to face her. The motion is practiced, professional; like every report says, this man knows what he was doing, despite his age. “I’m curious, too. Wanna check it out. That’s all.”

“Then why steal Overwatch tech?”

“Gotta start an investigation somewhere,” he replies. If she could see his eyebrows, she’s sure he would be quirking one. “And they have the best weapons.”

“Really?” Hana would be lying if she said she hadn’t been looking for ways to upgrade her mech’s short-range guns.

“Mm.”

“Were they not a terrorist organization, though? Why be curious?”

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” 76 says. “Sent out to check out the Overwatch rumors?”

“No,” she says, lying quickly and easily.

“Uh-huh.” It sounds like he’s smiling; he totally doesn’t buy it, which is hilarious since she’d lied to his face before without any problems. “Overwatch was never a terrorist organization, you know. They were peacekeepers.”

“I do remember that from my history textbook, but that goes against every military report I have ever read,” Hana says, furrowing her brow.

“Can’t ever predict who’s gonna tell the story,” 76 answers, and, well, he’s not wrong. “Look a little closer next time.”

“Can I not just ask you?” she says. “You seem to know a lot, despite being ‘curious’ about Overwatch’s revival.”

“Since you were livestreaming earlier, I don’t think I can stay to chat.”

“I was lying about that. I am only allowed to livestream during skirmishes.”

76 is silent for a while. Hana watches him; being unable to read his face, she instead eyes his body movements. Even then, it’s hard to tell, given how still and poised he holds himself, every muscle ready to coil and move at a moment’s notice.

“You seem very interested in this,” he says at last. “Beyond what a regular soldier should be.”

Hana lets a beat pass. Two. Three.

“Overwatch used to be full of heroes,” she says. “The best of the best on the whole planet. I am the best  _Starcraft_  player in the world. I would enjoy the competition. I play to win.”

“Fighting’s not the same as video games.”

“You would be surprised. Why do you think only pro-gamers drive our mechs?”

76 tilts his head, conceding the point. “So when you said you were curious, you meant you wanted to find these people and, what, challenge them to a duel?”

“How medieval! No. I would rather crush them than duel them.”

Another silence. Hana gets the sense that 76 either thinks very quickly and is processing a lot all at once, or he thinks very, very slowly. She’s hoping it’s the former, that he’s just considering his options - though she can’t begin to guess at what options he has. She is the one in the mech, after all.

“How much do you like your country, D.Va?”

A peculiar question. She mentally debates about giving him an honest answer and decides there’s no harm in it. “It’s my home,” Hana says. “I’d rather not see it destroyed. It is why I suited up in the first place.”

“Overwatch’s aim is to prevent destruction and war from happening.” 76 is staring directly at her, or at least his visor is aimed in her direction. “I lied earlier. I wasn’t curious about them; I was going to try to find their headquarters. See who’s leading the pack.”

 _That_  takes her by surprise. She’d’ve thought he was against them, what with all the semi-terrorist acts he’s committed over the past few years. She doesn’t say anything, though, and instead waits for him to continue.

“If I think they’re serving the higher purpose I hope they are,” 76 says, and then he shrugs, languid somehow, still a ripple of muscle and strength, “Maybe I’ll join them.”

 _A higher purpose?_  Justice, maybe. She can’t begin to guess at his motives, but he hasn’t even pointed his gun at her once during this entire conversation, despite being on opposite sides of a - well, could she even call it a conflict? He seemed genuinely invested in their conversation so far, and she doesn’t think he’s lying. But one thing still bothers her.

“Why tell me this?” she asks.

“Thought you might want to come with.”

 _Mee-cheen-nom_. As if she’d ever want to - “If I leave, I desert,” she says, which  _isn’t a no_.

“Well aware of that,” 76 says, amused. “Offer’s still on the table. Get to face those best of the best in battle or whatever, ‘cause I’m gonna find them eventually and the South Korean military isn’t even close.”

… She could swing this with her superiors. Couldn’t she? Make it so she doesn’t get in trouble when she goes back home, at least? Maybe slip them some reports, or give them Overwatch’s location when they get there, or - there has to be something, because she is far too tempted to say no.

“You can’t have any contact with home after this,” 76 says, watching her. Watching her facial expressions. Hana kicks herself inwardly for that. “I need to trust you not to turn me in. But I think I can - everything I’ve heard about D.Va says she never backs down from a challenge.”

Her gut roils uneasily as she looks down at the ground, a good two meters away. This would mean turning her back on everything she’s ever known, leaving behind everyone she’s ever loved. She wouldn’t be able to stream without setting up protections to keep her untraceable, she certainly couldn’t ever bring up a game of  _Starcraft_ , she might have to fight against her own people. But.

But.

(This means _escape_ , in some ways. Escape from her role, even if only briefly. And if not briefly, then - anything would be better than this, wouldn't it?)

“Hana,” she says, hands returning to the controls of her mech. “D.Va is my streamer name. My name is Hana.”

“Hana,” 76 echoes, and he finally relaxes. It’s an odd thing to see; she’d known he’d been ready for action, but now his shoulders slump a little and the rifle is swung back into its holster, quick as you please. “Do me a favor and get rid of anything you can use to get in contact with your squad.”

This is easier said than done, but Hana - well, she may have some experience in disabling her systems so no one knows what she’s doing. (Look, that ice cream shop looked very appealing, and no one had to know she’d left her mech for a few minutes.) Once they are down, 76 gestures for her to follow him with a jerk of his head, and she grins ferociously as she does so. Her mech’s stomping makes 76’s silent steps pointless, but she doesn’t think he minds.

She’s going to go against some of the best people the entire world had to offer, and she’s got a well of information about Overwatch beside her. And if she doesn’t like it - she can always make a break for it.

“Game on,” she mutters, and 76 lets out a rumble of a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i rarely play soldier: 76 or d.va in Overwatch - i’m the support leg of my comp team, i.e. mercy, lúcio, or symmetra (symmetra!! i love symmetra!! so much!!). if i do switch, tracer is my offense hero, junkrat is my defense hero and reinhardt is my tank.
> 
> trivia:
> 
> \- based on some really fast research, ‘mee-cheen-nom’ means ‘crazy bastard’ and dear god i hope it does. i really don’t want to embarrass myself. **EDIT:** i have been informed it does indeed mean 'crazy bastard' so i am doing a Right  
>  \- if you're reading this, I'm sure you already know D.Va’s real name is Hana Song, but if you don't there it is  
> \- similarly, Soldier: 76′s real name is Jack Morrison. he’s older now, which is why he got himself a new name. (he’s also angstier.)
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	2. overwatch, y'all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traveling with Soldier: 76, Hana quickly finds out, has no shortage of trouble. Mostly it’s skirting around populated areas, only darting in and out to grab necessities, occasionally a breathless moment crouched and hidden as people or soldiers march by, but there’s something about it all that keeps 76 and Hana by extension on edge. They haven’t been caught, and it’s a miracle Hana’s loud and heavy mech hasn’t given away their location yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had no intention of continuing this until i realized all of the Dad: 76 potential with Hana in the house.

Traveling with Soldier: 76, Hana quickly finds out, has no shortage of trouble. Mostly it’s skirting around populated areas, only darting in and out to grab necessities, occasionally a breathless moment crouched and hidden as people or soldiers march by, but there’s something about it all that keeps 76 and Hana by extension on edge. They haven’t been caught, not yet, and it’s a miracle Hana’s loud and heavy mech hasn’t given away their location at any point since she'd joined up with him.  
  
(The fun part had been getting to the mainland from Japan, which had involved sneaking onto a barge. Given how sneaking is impossible with a mech, it’s a wonder how 76 managed to keep her hidden.)  
  
It’s been about a month of this constant travel and fraying nerves before she resigns herself to the inevitable: her MEKA needs maintenance. She’s no specialist, and even if she was, she doesn’t have any of the necessary equipment with her - meaning she’ll have to find one as 76 leads her in a jaunty path across the continent of Asia towards a place he called Gibraltar.  
  
There is a singular problem with this that she can think of immediately: if South Korea ever learn she’s traveling with a renown criminal, she’ll be in far worse trouble than she is now. Several other problems include that she would be recognized no matter where she goes, there’s no way her mech can get into a town without a reported sighting, and if her mech is spotted, that means 76 will be exposed... which in turn means bounty hunters will flock to their location in order to nab him, which in turn will leave her an easy target for South Korea to bring her back. Further, even if she does find a specialist willing to keep quiet, the likelihood of them having the expertise she needs is extremely low. Complications, complications - so many in sight, no way to deal with all of them.  
  
But there’s no way around it. She’s beginning to detect noticeable drops in performance across the board while suited up, not enough to be of true concern but enough to know that she'll have to worry about it soon. Given how unwieldy the MEKA is for 76’s sneaking purposes in the first place, any worse than it is already and she can’t begin to guess what might happen.  
  
“Could change the color before we bring it in,” 76 suggests when they pause their never-ending flight to rest, the moon rising slowly, serenely in the sky. They’re somewhere in China at this point, close enough to a rural town to see smoke rising from huts, far enough that they wouldn’t be seen by anyone. “Maybe if I pretend to drive it?”  
  
“You are too recognizable,” Hana replies with a grin, pointing towards her eyes. 76 raises a hand to run his fingers over his visor, soundless; she’s not wrong, no matter how much he’d like to deny it. “And there is no way you would fit into the cockpit. The color thing might work, but where would we get paint?”  
  
“Bad paint job might be less suspicious - make it seem like an off-market mech.”  
  
“Once someone opens it up, there is no way in hell they will mistake it for anything but Mobile Exo-Force.”  
  
“Language,” 76 chides, as if he doesn’t swear up a storm every time his coffee isn’t straight black, the few times they've managed to get coffee, anyway. Honestly, the man could be her father, the way he hems and haws over her, and it grates at her a little bit; she's no child, no matter what her appearance might suggest. “How long can you go without maintenance?”  
  
“Maybe another two, three months,” Hana says, looking the MEKA over. The bright pink paint is beginning to fleck off and there's dirt and plants wedged near its feet, but otherwise it's not noticeably worse for wear. “It will not stop working, but I cannot guarantee what would happen if we got caught in a firefight.”  
  
“Can’t leave it behind, I suppose.”  
  
“I am a pretty good shot, but you have not seen this thing in action,” Hana shoots back, crossing her arms over her chest. “You can take my MEKA away over my dead body.”  
  
76 grunts. His plasma rifle is resting quietly in his lap as he hunches over his knees, and Hana can see that he has a crick in his back as he shifts slightly in place. She forgets how old he is when he sprints for hour after hour, only her rocket boosters allowing her to keep pace, and it’s moments like these that she really takes a step back and wonders how the man is so experienced and tireless. A month of traveling and she knows barely anything about him, despite peppering him with questions about Overwatch itself.

“Might be able to pull some strings,” 76 says at last. “In Nepal.”  
  
Hana frowns at that. At the rate they’re going, they would reach Nepal in a month or two, probably less considering how much ground 76 can cover in a day. It’s manageable, but it doesn’t soothe her nerves. “That is the soonest we can get help?”  
  
“Used to be an Overwatch base there. With any luck, I might be able to contact the organization directly. Risky - ” and here he casts a swift glance at her mech before looking away again - “but necessary.”  
  
Hana blinks slowly and looks up at 76. His visor glows a soft, dim red in the darkness and he’s not facing her, but she gets the sense he’s deliberately avoiding eye contact. (Not that she can actually maintain eye contact with him ever, but, eh. Semantics.)  
  
“How do you know so much?” she asks at last. It’s a question that’s been coiled in her chest for a long time. She doesn’t expect a response, honestly, but she figured she might as well try.  
  
The silence stretches on after her words - a minute, then two, as she keeps track of the seconds in her head. It’s summertime and the wilderness is alive with noise, but it seems muted somehow; quiet, unerring, careful. She tries not to breathe loudly and stares at her toes, knowing she should get her bedroll and set up for the night because asking the man of anything was a pointless endeavor anyway.  
  
She shifts to stand and 76 says, “Don’t move.”  
  
One week into their journey and she would’ve sassed him. Now she freezes in place save for a hand inching towards her handgun, tracking 76’s visor as the light dims to nothing and he listens for something she can’t hear yet. She’s learned to trust his instincts, and so she waits and doesn’t ask questions, even when a mosquito lands on her face and she watches it in agonizing silence as it sucks her blood.  
  
“One hostile,” 76 says at last. His voice is barely above a whisper. “Well-trained. When I give the signal, get into your mech.”  
  
“Roger,” she whispers. She can hear the footsteps now, quiet and careful and sure, along with - a jingling of some kind? She furrows her brow. Who would have tracked them this far into China, so far removed from any bustling city that no one ever shot them a second glance? There isn’t any bounty hunter she could think of who could do such a thing -  
  
76 is on-his-feet-firing-his-pistol-pivoting-on-his-heel in one fluid motion, suddenly, abruptly. Hana takes this as her cue to scramble into her mech, legs first and arms last, powering up with arms flying this way and that, and instantly activating her defense matrix out of sheer reflex as soon as the MEKA programming is online. Once this is done, she takes up a stance just a bit ahead of 76 as he throws down a biotic field, pulse rifle pausing as he reloaded. She grimaces when a six bullets are ricocheted away from her, and then -

And then she just _stares_ when their opponent steps into the open.  
  
“Howdy, partner,” the man drawls, and he’s got a stupid revolver spinning in his hand, a cigar in his mouth, and - and Hana is almost positive she’s seen his outfit in old cowboy movies her friend Nari back home liked to watch. His belt flashes in the moonlight and she loses all respect for the man when she sees it reads _BAMF_.  
  
“McCree,” 76 growls, and if the man is surprised that he knows his name, it doesn’t show on his face.  
  
“Pardon the intrusion,” McCree says, giving first Hana and then 76 a winning smile; “But Overwatch is mighty interested in collectin’ that huge bounty on ya, 76, and, hey, they figured that I could do the job.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm... surprised this got the support it did?? surprised and grateful. thank you all!
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	3. let's do this my way for a change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana had never considered a wannabe cowboy would be part of Overwatch. Just as well, because said cowboy ends up having disturbingly uncanny aim as she moves her hand to trigger her MEKA's gun - only to yelp when a bullet grazes the back of her hand, not hitting her exactly but close enough to know that it had been a warning shot.
> 
> “Out of the mech,” he says. Hana doesn’t move until 76 gives her an almost imperceptible nod, and then she cautiously steps down, landing lightly on the ground as McCree flashes her a smile. “Bless your heart, darlin’. Now drop the weapons, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what I'm doing

Hana had never considered a wannabe cowboy would be part of Overwatch. Just as well, because said cowboy ends up having disturbingly uncanny aim as she moves her hand to trigger her MEKA's gun - only to yelp when a bullet grazes the back of her hand, not hitting her exactly but close enough to know that it had been a warning shot.

“Out of the mech,” he says. Hana doesn’t move until 76 gives her an almost imperceptible nod, and then she cautiously steps down, landing lightly on the ground as McCree flashes her a smile. “Bless your heart, darlin’. Now drop the weapons, please.”

“You’re part of Overwatch?” 76 says, and for the moment Hana keeps her mouth shut. Usually, firefights makes her blood rush through her veins, adrenaline kicking her brain into high-gear, a manic smile on her face as she lands shot after shot; now, though, she can only swallow back an intense sense of doom and hope this McCree person doesn’t shoot as she and 76 slowly place their weapons on the ground and fold their hands behind their heads.

“Don’t see how it would interest you any, Soldier,” McCree says, casually reloading his revolver. Hana can see that not all of 76’s bullets had missed from his barrage earlier, though the cowboy was wearing some kind of chestplate that, while having a few dents, doesn’t seem any worse for wear. “Didn’t realize you’d have company with you, though. Howdy, by the by.”

Hana doesn’t say a word, eyes intent on his gun, fear locking her into place. If McCree notices this he doesn’t comment, only tipping his hat in some kind of weird respectful gesture, maybe.

“Leave her out of this,” 76 says, rumbling.

“Ain’t her who’s got a million-dollar bounty on her head, partner,” McCree says breezily, and Hana can’t help the cool relief pooling at the base of her spine. It doesn’t nothing to relax her shoulders, however. “Best to come nice and easy, ‘less you want someone t’get hurt.”

“Leave. Her. Out of this.”

When she had said she wanted to go up against the best of the best, she may have misspoken. It’s clear this man is well-trained and dangerous and she - well, she's fought against omnics and humans and giant beasts of the sea without batting an eye, but it's especially different when she’s not ensconced in the safety of her MEKA. Alone in her bodysuit, she's vulnerable and a single shot could kill her.

“Wasn’t intendin’ to hurt her, Soldier,” McCree says cheerfully. Somehow he sounds careful. Considering. “All y’all gonna come with me or we doin’ this the hard way?”

“I’ve been trying to contact Overwatch for a few months now,” 76 says, as if McCree hadn’t spoken. “Perhaps we can come to a deal.”

“Much as I’d like t’talk, I’d have to clear it with my boss before anythin’ else,” McCree replies, all nonchalance. Hana’s beginning to get a read on him, though, and she can tell he’s a bit antsy, cautious in a casual way; he hasn’t taken his finger off of the trigger of his revolver, and it’s pretty clear he’s got them both lined up in a shot. “‘Fraid I’m gonna have to tie you up, too. Safety first, y’see.”

“Take us to Gibraltar first,” Soldier: 76 says. It’s not a plea; it comes out more like a command. “We will cooperate fully if you let me talk to your superiors. If not, I won’t make it easy for you.”

Hana watches McCree’s face as he considers this. The man is largely impassive but she’s spent enough time around 76 and his ugly mug to get hypersensitive to facial expressions - at any rate, the cowboy appears to be genuinely curious and it doesn’t look like he’ll refuse.

“No reason for me to take the girl, ya know,” McCree says at last.

“You’ll take her or I’ll shoot you where you stand,” 76 says, and she hopes that’s not all bravado, and she also hopes a least an iota of his courage would bleed over to her.

“What happened to leavin’ her out of this?”  
  
“She comes with me or we don’t come at all.”

McCree sighs. “All right,” he concedes, tilting his head. “I’ll call in for pickup and tell ‘em the news. Still gotta tie you up, Soldier. No hard feelings.”

“Acknowledged,” 76 says, which isn’t really an answer at all.

“One move outta line and it’s drastic measures for both of you, yeah?” McCree says, smiling slightly at 76's words. It's a threat, not a pleasantry. “Got orders to knock you out in case of trouble.”

“Don’t hurt her,” 76 says, and wow, he is going full dad mode now. Hana is hit with a strange, sudden pang of longing, gone as soon as it had come; her father had never been like this. Almost immediately it’s replaced by irritation - she's just as much a soldier as he is, and Hana crosses her arms and lifts her chin.

“I am not a child, 76.”

“You’re nineteen,” he quips back.

“I am an adult. I have been taking care of myself for some time now.” A bittersweet truth.

“You’re still young. Don’t be reckless.”

“Much as I like watchin’ the two of you squabble - hands out, please.” Hana complies without thinking, distracted as she is as she scowls at 76, and then jumps when McCree claps a pair of cuffs on her wrists. 76 lets out a warning growl but otherwise doesn’t do anything as McCree ambles over and does the same to him. “Much obliged. Thunderbird’ll be here pretty soon. Should be only a coupla hours to Gibraltar with our ace pilot at the helm.”

76 mutters something under his breath as Hana regards the cuffs on her wrists with distaste, too quiet for her to catch, and then she looks over at her mech. _At least there is a silver lining_ , she thinks; her MEKA will likely be able to get the maintenance it needs at Gibraltar, providing shit doesn’t hit the fan once they get there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still don't know what I'm doing
> 
> Headcanons:
> 
> \- McCree, being the ignoramus he is, has no idea who Hana is. He wouldn't recognize her by the name D.Va, either.  
> \- Hana's family is never mentioned in game canon, so I'm assuming she had regular parents and probably no siblings; given how she's out on the battlefront, I'm also assuming her parents are either negligent or had no choice but to let her fight  
> \- Hana was childhood friends with a girl named Nari, who Hana has lost track of over the years  
> \- McCree is the first agent to respond to Overwatch's recall, second only to Tracer  
> \- 76 doesn't play favorites, but if he did, Hana would be his favorite (and he totally does play favorites)
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	4. she's beauty she's grace she doesn't leave a trace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plane - if she could call it a plane - is noisy and seemingly unwieldy as it lands in the undergrowth. Hana can only chew her lip and stay close to 76, still a little peeved the man feels the need to stay in front of her but mostly grateful that she has at least one person she can trust in this situation. It’s a miracle none of the locals have come to investigate yet, and given how a person typically gets one miracle per day, she’s not about to test her luck and get shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these chapters are nice and bite-sized so I can churn them out really fast. neat-o!
> 
> (psst: this [‽] is an interrobang, a combination between a question and an exclamation mark. s'pretty cool!)

The plane - if she could call it a plane - is noisy and seemingly unwieldy as it lands in the undergrowth. Hana can only chew her lip and stay close to 76, still a little peeved the man feels the need to stay in front of her but mostly grateful that she has at least one person she can trust in this situation. It’s a miracle none of the locals have come to investigate yet, and given how a person typically gets one miracle per day, she’s not about to test her luck and get shot.  
  
McCree sweeps out a hand to gesture them into the plane as its cargo door lowers. 76 starts walking but pauses when Hana doesn’t; she is in the slow, careful process of edging towards her MEKA, unsure if she is allowed to get in and drive it. She can do that without hands, but she can also operate guns without hands, and she just really,  _really_ doesn’t want to get shot.  
  
“One false move, remember,” McCree warns, watching her with what she is now certain is feigned nonchalance. She sees something shine in his palm and zeroes in on it; a flashbang, maybe, she’s seen a few of those while stationed in various parts of the world with her MEKA squad. “Git, then, drive your mech on in.”  
  
76 nudges her shoulder with his when she doesn’t move right away, and she doesn’t take her eyes off of McCree as she carefully steps backwards and into her mech. It’s still powered up, a reassuring hum in her ears as she presses into its embrace, and then she moves the mech forward with 76 just ahead of her. McCree brings up the rear, having nabbed both of their weapons, and then they’re in and she can hear rather than see the cargo door close behind them.  
  
“First time a mission’s gone so smoothly, love!” a female voice rings out. 76’s head snaps up, and Hana belatedly realizes it must come from an intercom. “I’m impressed!”  
  
“Ain’t it a wonder when I do my job right?” McCree drawls. Hana tracks him in her peripheral vision as he steps ahead of them and gestures for 76 to sit down, which the man does. Hana takes that as her cue to extricate herself from her mech, aware of McCree’s heavy gaze as she quickly takes the spot next to 76, pressing close enough that her arm touches his.  
  
“Yes indeed, Jesse,” the female voice, presumably their pilot, says, and now Hana knows McCree's first name. “We’ll be straight on our way! Should be a few hours before we reach the U.S. - ”  
  
“Change of plans, sugarplum,” McCree interrupts. “Man wants to go talk to Winston. S’the only reason he’s cooperatin’.”  
  
There’s a pregnant pause.

“Why not just give him an earpiece?” the pilot asks, which is a fair point; that had been 76’s plan in the first place, as Hana recalls. “He can talk, I don’t have to mess with the piloting program and change course, everyone wins!”  
  
“You know how Winston is about sharin’ the earpieces, Lena.” 76 stiffens. Hana bumps her elbow against his lightly, but 76 just shakes his head. “Figured it couldn’t hurt. He’ll want to talk to him, and I know Angel’s been wantin’ to check ‘im out, too.”  
  
“Oh, fine, changing courses. Just for you.”

“Thank ya kindly.”

“Don’t let it get to your head!” Lena doesn’t sound the least bit exasperated by this despite her words, a fact further confirmed as she changes subjects and asks, “Say, who’s the stranger, love?”  
  
“I don’t rightly know, actually,” McCree says, to which their pilot titters a bright, bubbly laugh. “Mind introducin’ yourself, darlin’?”

Hana looks over at 76. 76 looks back at her. She can tell what he’s thinking right away: her streamer name is more recognizable than her real name, but more importantly, her real name is not something she wants everyone to know. She’s seen enough of movies and politics and plays to realize it could be dangerous in the wrong hands, could trace back to her family.  
  
“D.Va,” Hana says, and 76 nods; his approval puts a small smile on her face. She glances over at McCree, who had observed the exchange closely. “I’m D.Va.”  
  
McCree apparently doesn’t recognize her because there’s no outward reaction beyond a pursing of lips, and - huh, she hadn’t even noticed him get rid of his cigar somewhere. She is remotely offended for a few seconds before she notes that McCree isn’t a young man; maybe he’s never gotten into the gaming world. Actually, he’s probably never touched a cell phone, if the way he’s dressed is anything to go by.

Lena’s reaction, meanwhile, is another thing entirely, and all three of them wince when her voice crackles loudly over the intercom as she shouts, “I’m driving a plane and _D.Va_ is in it? McCree, why didn’t you tell me sooner‽”  
  
“You know her?”  
  
“How do you _not?”_ Lena says, and she giggles and says, “Oh, this is amazing! Winston better let you in, love, that would be so fun!”

Hana blinks and finds herself inexplicably exchanging a glance with McCree, who just looks amused as Lena continues to chatter after that, loud, consistent - fortunately enough that Hana can tune her out. She puts her tied hands in her lap and doesn’t look at McCree after that, and while under any other circumstances she’d be thrilled to meet a fan, right now just doesn’t seem like a good time to celebrate.

Evidently the cowboy has the same idea, because he eventually speaks up over the pilot and says,  “Oughta be interestin’ when we get back t’base, what with a criminal and an apparently famous Mobile Exo-Force member."

He kicks back in the seats across from theirs and _is my MEKA really that recognizable?_ she thinks, frowning. His hat tips over his eyes but Hana is sure that he’s watching them.

“How long?" 76 asks.

“Enjoy the ride," McCree says, smooth as can be. Hana thinks he isn’t going to answer until he adds, “And you can ignore Lena up there; she’ll stop eventually, and we’ve got a few hours to kill.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i... am still not sure where I'm going with this story?? but there is a plot and it's moving so that's good. 
> 
> thank you for all the kudos and comments!! I really appreciate it and it's still so unexpected but I'm very grateful!
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	5. gorilla gorilla graueri [the latin name for eastern lowland gorillas]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana doesn’t realize she’s fallen asleep until 76 is shaking her shoulder with a large, steady hand, and then she snaps awake and feels around for her weapon. She deflates a moment later when she remembers her gun is resting by McCree’s knee, and then she shrinks further when McCree laughs, probably at her antics. She’s been on the run for a while now, no one can blame her for being prepared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was looking through previous chapters and i have no idea how i'm going to bring all of the other characters into this
> 
> good god
> 
> i'm gonna have to write mission fic won't i

Hana doesn’t realize she’s fallen asleep until 76 is shaking her shoulder with a large, steady hand, and then she snaps awake and feels around for her weapon. She deflates a moment later when she remembers her gun is resting by McCree’s knee, and then she shrinks further when McCree laughs, probably at her antics. She’s been on the run for a while now, no one can blame her for being prepared.  
  
(She’s grateful when 76 shields her from McCree’s view as he walks her to her mech, when all is said and done -a shield between her and a piercing stare. Not that she would ever admit it aloud.)  
  
The first thing she registers when the cargo doors open is the sharp, distinct smell of the sea. It brings on with it a wave of homesickness, soft and lagging, gone as she forces her mind elsewhere; and then she notes the sun was just beginning to rise, or maybe set, she isn’t sure, and then she steps outside, she blinks, and suddenly there’s a young woman standing next to McCree with a wide smile and a perky wave.  
  
“Hello!” she says, and Hana keeps quiet, eyes narrowed. There isn’t any way the woman got out of cockpit and outside the plane faster than her - she would’ve seen it, her mech would detected it. Yet this is very obviously their pilot, and she’s very obviously standing there, and Hana huddles in her mech and says nothing.  
  
“Tracer,” 76 says, and really, how does he know these people?  
  
“Oh, now there’s a surprise! I suppose my name precedes me.” Lena - Tracer? - sketches a brief bow, bending neatly at the waist at a perfect ninety-degree angle. “Lena Oxton, callsign Tracer, at your service! Delighted to meetcha, D.Va, by the by, huge fan.” Hana offers a weak grin but not much else, and thankfully Tracer's attention shifts away from her soon enough. “Let’s ring Winston, shall we?”  
  
There’s a sound, something between a whirr and a click along with a whoop, and then Tracer is gone in a blur of blue. Hana cranes her neck out of her mech to see the woman blinking in and out of view, laughing all the while, disappearing into the building ahead of them. Gibraltar, Hana supposes, though she doesn’t ask. Best to let 76 take the lead in moments like these.  
  
“And there she goes,” McCree says. He studies 76, cradling both his and Hana’s weapons in his arms. His revolver is tucked into the holster at his waist. “Weird that you know Lena, gotta admit.”  
  
“I’ve heard a lot about Overwatch,” 76 says, and if that isn’t the understatement of the century.  
  
“Mm. Been stealin’ a lot of our old tech, as I recall, or at least you hit Grand Mesa and got Winston's knickers in a twist, so to speak. Why I was sent out in the first place, matter of fact. Figured it was the best way t’get you to stop and get some money on the side.” McCree tucks the two guns under his arm and pulls out a cigar, slotting it between his teeth before going for a lighter. “But plans change, I suppose. Follow me. We’ll be takin’ the long way in.”  
  
Hana guides her mech forward and stomps along behind 76 as McCree begins to walk with long, easy strides, his back to them but ever-watchful nonetheless. Now that there’s light and she can see him properly, she can only find herself even more off-put by his appearance. It looks like he’s wearing some kind of red cape thing and the jingling she remembers from earlier come from actual spurs on his boots; the hat and cigar complete a very bizarre look. The chestplate is completely out of place, metallic and shining and hard where his clothes are soft and flowing, and overall Hana finds herself genuinely curious about his fashion sense.  
  
Still, she has other things to distract her. There’s a fair number of red lights spattered across the display board of her mech, more than she remembers, and Hana is so preoccupied with reading through them that she doesn’t realize they’ve entered the building until her mech bumps against a doorframe and McCree says, singsong, “A bit to your left, darlin’, there you go.”

76 glares at the man for her. McCree is entirely unfazed as he leads them in.  
  
Inside is empty. Rounded edges, bright but bland colors, Overwatch logo everywhere she looks. She walks her MEKA into the first room before powering down and popping out, and it occurs to her that it’s been at least a week since her last shower and that her bodysuit is starting to get a little worn. Great; going to see the big boss, Winston apparently, in hopes of joining Overwatch, and she’s dressed little better than a beggar. 76 is, of course, not any better, but at the very least the raggedness of his jacket fits his appearance: rugged, untamed, intimidating.  
  
_Then again_ , she thinks, looking over at McCree, and at his raised eyebrow she merely smirks and shakes her head. That’s as much as she’s going to do, though, and she stays close to 76 as they follow the cowboy deeper in the building. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of people here, or at least they don’t run into anyone else on their lengthy journey into what ends up being a conference room, which strikes Hana as odd. If this all works out, maybe she can ask why.  
  
There’s a figure at the head of the conference room who turns after McCree drawls, “Brought ‘em to ya, big guy,” and then her stomach drops because that - is - that is a -  
  
“Gorilla,” 76 murmurs for her ears alone, and Hana nods mutely. _Best of the best_. Somehow she finds this hard to believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for the support!!
> 
> mccree is my favorite to write so far, i think, followed closely by junkrat. even though i haven't written junkrat yet. i know i'm going to enjoy it, though, because it's _junkrat_ and you absolutely can't go wrong with jamison fawkes.
> 
> also!! i am leaving for europe tomorrow, which means any updates after that and until i get back are very doubtful. (i will try! but no promises.) i will return on the 22nd and be very tired, but once i'm back i will attempt to get into the swing of things again. so! thanks again for the support and thanks in advance for your patience! :)
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	6. life would be easier if i had the source code

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ah, D.Va, Soldier: 76,” the gorilla says, and Hana stares as he pushes a pair of glasses further up his nose. Beside him, Tracer waves again, and McCree drops into a chair with a sigh. He’s lost the cigar again, Hana notices. “I’ve been waiting for you. Please, take a seat.”
> 
> [[i changed the title of this piece because it didn't make sense. now it makes sense hopefully!]]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> winston!! you son of a gun. love ya big guy.

“Ah, D.Va, Soldier: 76,” the gorilla says, and Hana stares as he pushes a pair of glasses further up his nose. Beside him, Tracer waves again, and McCree drops into a chair with a sigh. He’s lost the cigar again, Hana notices. “I’ve been waiting for you. Please, take a seat.”

Hana follows 76’s lead and sits when he sits, in the chair close to and behind him - a shield between her and the unknown. 76 doesn’t look completely at ease, but he doesn’t look entirely uncomfortable, either; just like before, she’ll let him do the talking, at least until she knows that she’s safe and won’t get shot. She _really_ does not want to get shot.

“Lena tells me you’re interested in joining Overwatch,” the gorilla says. Winston? “I’ll admit I’m surprised. Soldier: 76, you’re an infamous criminal across the globe and you’ve been stealing from our old facilities. You’re the last person I would have expected to come here.”

76 grunts. He sounds entirely unimpressed.

“And you, D.Va,” Winston continues, “I’d heard reports of a mech operator deserting Mobile Exo-Force, but I didn’t realize it was their most well-known member.”

Hana doesn’t grunt, but she knows her facial expression is equally unimpressed, especially when McCree lets out a dry laugh.

“What exactly would you bring to the team if we let you in?” Winston asks, expression unreadable, tone slightly resigned, maybe, she isn't sure. Hana knows that 76’s mouth is open to speak before Winston says, “D.Va, perhaps you would like to begin.”  
  
Hana’s eyes dart from Winston to 76 and back. _Shit,_ she’s not prepared to talk about herself like it’s a job interview, she’s not - what if she says something wrong? She can’t afford to say something wrong. If she gets shipped back off to South Korea, the ramifications are endless and terrible, at least if she ever wants to live a normal life again. Not that her life was ever normal to begin with, given what her rank was back home, but even so... she’s just Hana Song and she can drive a mech and she plays video games professionally and -  
  
and she’s D.Va.  
  
Just like that, Hana feels her spine straighten and her lips curve upward in a winning smile. She’s had to launch into a long explanation of her mech before and she can go into how it works, she knows she can, she knows she has before, and she knows she can do it now. All she has to do is play the part they expect of her: young, a bit headstrong, confident, proud, just like she is while she streams.

“As you know, I drive a mech,” she says. “It is specially made by South Korean engineers. Fusion cannons allow for infinite short-range shooting. A defense matrix allows me to repel any incoming bullets, and it lasts in bursts of twenty seconds with a thirty second cooldown in-between. The armor can withstand continuous fire and the unit itself is very mobile, as rocket boosters can lift me up or shoot me forward.”

This doesn't appear to faze any of them. D.Va continues, undeterred.

“I am experienced with working in teams, as I was part of the Mobile Exo-Forces. I am squad leader of my squad back home, and we were given a fair amount of independence; therefore, I can follow orders but also act with a degree of initiative.” She frowns a bit at that, she’s pretty sure that’s not an actual English expression, but, eh. Close enough. “From what I can see, McCree and Tracer can do a lot of damage, but they perform best when they have cover to hide behind. I assume you, Winston, normally provide this protection, though you are also the boss and are thus likely needed here more than out there. My thought is that you will require someone else who can take a lot of damage. That is me.”

There is silence for a bit. D.Va lets her smile fade into a confident smirk, leaning back in her chair to prop her arms behind her head, almost putting her feet on the table before she stops herself; she doesn’t want to ruin this entirely. 76 turns his head for a brief moment to glance at her and he gives her a slight nod, which she acknowledges with two blinks of her eyes.

“I see,” Winston says. He doesn’t look very impressed, but D.Va merely winks and shoots a finger pistol at him. Tracer is smiling delightedly, clapping her hands together silently, and McCree merely watches and waits as the gorilla turns to 76. “And you?”

76 has placed his tied hands on the table at this point and appears to be studying them. “Command experience,” he says at last. “I can lead a group. I can bring a group together. I have combat experience in a variety of places in a variety of ways. I’m a skilled mercenary; that’s about it.”

“Good shot, too,” D.Va chirps, leaning over to rest her arm on the back of 76’s chair. The man startles slightly when her chin goes to rest on his shoulder, but he otherwise keeps a steady glance on Winston. “Visor can help him aim, sometimes. Better than your cowboy, at any rate.” McCree snorts but doesn’t say anything. “We are useful. We want to help you.”

Winston considers this, eyes going from her to 76 periodically for a few moments. D.Va continues to lean on 76’s chair, smiling, while 76 continues to stare at his hands.

“Aw, c’mon, love,” Tracer says after a moment, bouncing on her heels. “Let them join, yeah? We need a tank besides you!”

“Can’t hurt any,” McCree puts in, which surprises D.Va quite a bit; he’d seemed pretty ambivalent to the whole thing, right from capturing 76 to ushering the two of them off of the plane. “’Sides. One wrong move, ain’t hard to put ‘em out of commission.”  
  
“I resent that,” D.Va says with a sniff.  
  
“So do I,” 76 says, which is another surprise.  
  
Winston scrutinizes them. She feels her smile begin to slip, feels D.Va darting through the cracks so that Hana shines through, and without thinking much about it she moves so her face is hidden behind 76’s head instead of on his shoulder. Hana is _scared_ , dammit. She know she shouldn’t be but it’s been a terrifying month in some ways, and even now that they are here, there’s a possibility shit will hit the fan.  
  
76 won’t let her down.  
  
Winston might.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanons:
> 
> \- winston likes to talk like he's narrating his life. like as if a writer was writing dialogue. like this fic!! so every time he talks it's basically like the fourth wall crumbles. mind blown yet??  
> \- winston's glasses are two prescription grades too weak but like hell is he getting a new pair anytime soon  
> \- lena and mccree are bros™ and mccree calls her 'sugarplum' ironically and in return she gets to call him 'cow hustler' or something like that  
> \- lena and winston are also bros but are not bros™  
> \- 76 does not tolerate touchies. except if it's hana. or lena. or lúcio. or angela. or winston. maybe a few other people. but otherwise he doES NOT TOLERATE TOUCHIES  
> \- hana used to be a nice outgoing kid but everything changed when the fire nation attacked and gave her a pc with starcraft installed  
> \- hana pitches her voice slightly higher when streaming. she's not sure when or why she started doing this but it's not like she can just stop after all these years  
> \- hana has gotten death threats before which partly influenced why she joined up with mobile exo-force because no whiny dudebro is gonna touch her when she's got a freaking mech amirite
> 
>  **just a reminder!!** i am leaving for europe tomorrow, which means any updates after that and until i get back are very doubtful. (i will try! but no promises.) i will return on the 22nd and be very tired, but once i'm back i will attempt to get into the swing of things again. so! thanks again for the support and thanks in advance for your patience! :)


	7. stealing coffee is a mugging, probably

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s an eternity later when Winston sighs and says, “You’re right, Lena. We need all the firepower we can get, and they certainly seem capable.”
> 
> Hana forgets how to breathe for about two seconds. 76 has no outward reaction beyond a tiny relaxation of his shoulders, something Hana only detects because she’s so close to him, and she forces down a smile as relief pools calmly and coolly at the base of her spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fillerrrrrr chapterrrrrr
> 
> it turns out my flight got delayed so i don't leave until later today! neat-o! means i can update a bit more before i go!

It’s an eternity later when Winston sighs and says, “You’re right, Lena. We need all the firepower we can get, and they certainly seem capable.”  
  
Hana forgets how to breathe for about two seconds. 76 has no outward reaction beyond a tiny relaxation of his shoulders, something Hana only detects because she’s so close to him, and she forces down a smile as relief pools calmly and coolly at the base of her spine.  
  
“Took me over a week to track Soldier down,” McCree points out. He leans back in his chair and props his feet on the table, ignoring Winston’s disapproving look. “Man’s skilled. He and D.Va kept a mech hidden the entire time, too.”  
  
Tracer is clapping her hands together loudly now, grinning unabashedly. She is apparently so thrilled she can’t get words to form because she doesn’t say anything, and Hana can only stare as Winston shakes his head, smiling slightly.  
  
“I’d like to see them in action, first,” the gorilla says. “I know it’s been a long day for the two of you, but do you think you could go through a quick training simulation?”  
  
“I slept a bit on the way here,” Hana says, cautiously poking her head around 76’s to look at Winston. McCree is holding back a laugh at her, she can tell, and she studiously ignores him. “My mech needs maintenance, but provided it is nothing too extreme, I will be all right.”  
  
76 remains quiet. Hana reaches over and puts a hand on his shoulder, shaking slightly, and his head lifts slightly; thinking, she supposes, in that processing-everything-too-quickly way of his, though he isn’t too out of it to respond, “Should be fine, as long as it’s short.”  
  
“Excellent,” Winston says, sounding pleased. Hana would tentatively call the expression on his face a smile. “Lena, would you show them the way?”  
  
“I’ll tag along, too,” McCree says, hefting himself to his feet, grinning broadly at the two of them. “Gettin’ a little rusty what with all this inaction. Plus you’ll be wantin’ your weapons back.”  
  
“Almost enough for a full squad!” Tracer says. The grin on her face has somehow grown. It looks a bit painful. “Oh, I’m so excited, you have no idea.”  
  
“I think I have an inkling,” Hana mutters, and 76 lets out a rasping laugh.  
  
“I’ll call you if anything arises,” Winston says, and yes, he’s definitely smiling. Hana tries a small smile back and is rewarded with a tilt of his head. “Make sure to introduce the two of them to Angela, if she’s finished with whatever she’s working on. Oh, and Jesse, please don’t shoot up the walls again.”  
  
“High noon waits for no one,” McCree says cryptically. Tracer has already zipped from Winston’s side to the door at this point, jogging in place as she impatiently watches them talk, and then the cowboy lets out a sigh and says, “Then again, that’s probably a pretty big bite outta my paycheck.”  
  
“That it is, cow hustler, Winston showed me the sum,” Tracer says with a bright grin. McCree groans. “C’mon!”  
  
“You know you’re insane, right?”  
  
“And you’re barmy, so fair’s fair, yeah?” Tracer turns her head to look at Hana and 76. “A little shooting will get you out of your shell! Maybe we can talk more then.”  
  
Hana is not a shy person. She tries to say this and ends up opening her mouth and closing it without a word being uttered, because Tracer’s already turned away to chatter at McCree, who lets out low laughs and rambles that twang, and, well. Hana thinks she might be good friends with Tracer if the woman ever came down from her sugar high.  
  
“What happens when she drinks coffee?” she muses.  
  
“Chaos,” 76 says promptly, so confidently Hana can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of her throat, one that he echoes with his rasping, rumbling laugh. It makes both Tracer and McCree look back at them, finding only 76 gazing stoically ahead as Hana covers her smile with her hand, giggling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanons:
> 
> \- mccree is a very good judge of character and, out of everyone in the overwatch gang, he's probably the hardest to kill using stealth. he's very observant and doesn't miss much of anything that happens around him in a room, unless he's drunk  
> \- however: do not whisper secrets when you are around a drunk mccree. mccree will remember them. he will delight in telling people about them when he is sober  
> \- drunk lena is a thing that never happens because she can hold her liquor like no one's business, so another pro tip, do not whisper secrets when around lena ever because she will remember them and will delight in telling people about them when everyone else is sober  
> \- (THIS IS HOW LENA AND MCCREE BECAME BROS™ IN THE FIRST PLACE BY THE WAY)  
> \- winston doesn't drink because he's a gorilla and research on how alcohol affects gorillas is surprisingly scant (honestly, you'd think [an entire moon base full of angry intelligent gorillas](http://overwatch.gamepedia.com/Horizon_Lunar_Colony) would've yielded something along those lines but noooo)  
> \- winston likes to think he's a super cool scientist who has everyone's undying respect. this is true. except everyone also thinks he's a big pushover. literally a pushover. they have a little trophy to pass around to whoever's pushed him over the most (zarya almost always has it)  
> \- 76 is basically the designated driver and watches the people around him get drunker and drunker with his head in his hands as someone sings the same damn song over and over again (hanzo probably)  
> \- 76 is a lightweight  
> \- hana is the one who films/takes pictures of her drunk friends doing things and then posts them online because she's ~~an asshole who revels in the pain of others~~ nice like that  
>  \- hana discovered she was allergic to alcohol and got that [Asian flush thing](https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=2&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwicg4Cz2N3NAhXIRyYKHWHKBq8QFgghMAE&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DG6717bNakuA&usg=AFQjCNH3jh7hiHKwuXHAIPlr5g7PwgdAHg&sig2=d45umrnSEc6fHZ-BGx87YQ) when she was eighteen and hasn't bothered drinking since
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	8. i don't know where i am but i do know what i'm doing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana can’t begin to find her way around this place when they somehow arrive in the room where her MEKA is waiting, and Tracer _oohs_ and _aahs_ appropriately as Hana powers up the thing and lumbers after them, 76 remaining relatively close to her side. They go outside the building to get to the training ranges, as McCree calls them, and then into another building, and then there is more than one range and Hana marvels at it all: Overwatch had been huge in its time. It’s a little sad to bear witness to what remains of it, no matter how sordidly the history books had painted its past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more fillerrrrrr chapterrrrrr
> 
> next time will be more exciting! pinky promise.

Hana can’t begin to find her way around this place when they somehow arrive in the room where her MEKA is waiting, and Tracer _oohs_ and _aahs_ appropriately as Hana powers up the thing and lumbers after them, 76 remaining relatively close to her side. They go outside the building to get to the training ranges, as McCree calls them, and then into another building, and then there is more than one range and Hana marvels at it all: Overwatch had been huge in its time. It’s a little sad to bear witness to what remains of it, no matter how sordidly the history books had painted its past.  
  
“Athena, would you let us in to Range Three?” Tracer asks. Hana blinks and glances over at 76, because 76 seems to kind of know these things, but he gives her a half-shrug; no answers from him, apparently. “I’ve three guests with me.”  
  
“Of course, Agent Oxton,” a female and clearly artificial voice says from somewhere. The ceiling, probably. Most disembodied voices came from ceilings, at least in this place. “I’d like to remind Agent McCree to refrain from shooting up the wall.”  
  
“One time,” McCree grumbles. Athena doesn’t laugh, but Tracer does, loud and bright as everything she does ends up being, and Hana follows 76 into the range. The cowboy wordlessly passes her and 76 their weapons once they’ve taken a few steps in. She doesn’t think the irony is lost on him, when he hands her the tiny little handgun while standing in front of her very dangerous mech, but he doesn’t do more than grin and wink before moving off towards Tracer, who is busy punching stuff into a console.

76 looks his weapon over with quick, practiced motions as Hana futilely tries to work through some of her mech’s more pressing issues, and both of them look up when training - bots? Training bots - come out of indents in the wall. There are a lot of them. It’s actually a bit intimidating, though, thankfully, Hana knows she’ll have to actually step into the range for the simulation to begin.  
  
“Show us what you’ve got, loves!” Tracer says, and Hana glances over to see her leaning against the wall. Now that she’s looking, there are two pistols at her waist, and McCree’s lighting a cigar - _he shouldn’t be doing that_ , Hana thinks, _that’s probably a hazard_ \- while his revolver spins lazily in his hand. They are, if nothing else, a panel of judges.  
  
Hana sucks in a breath and taps her fingers along the two triggers in her mech. An exhale, she lets her grip tighten and her eyes focus in on the moving bots, and she’s ready.  
  
“What is the plan?” D.Va asks 76, quietly enough that McCree and Tracer can’t hear.  
  
“Take the ones in front, as many as you can. The others will try to flank you; I’ll stay behind you and take care of them on both sides.” D.Va nods, remembers he can’t see it through the mech, but 76 seems to pick up on it anyway. “Don’t hesitate to use defense matrix if you feel threatened. If you need a biotic field, signal me.”  
  
“How?”  
  
“Screaming works,” 76 says, which is the closest approximation to a joke she’s ever heard him make. Besides the ‘chaos’ one when she asked about coffee, she supposes.  
  
“All right. I am ready if you are.”  
  
76 nods, bracing his plasma rifle against his side. “After you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanons:
> 
> \- hana is a terrible shot with her pistol. she claims otherwise but, like, it's really bad. 76 would've worked with her on it if they hadn't been running for their lives for the past month  
> \- winston's aim with firearms is so bad he resigned himself to his tesla cannon  
> \- mccree's aim is uncanny. using dead-eye drains him, though, to the point where he only uses it as a last resort  
> \- 76 has great aim but tactical visor makes it terrifyingly good  
> \- lena always gives her position away by giggling and laughing but she's so hard to hit and she's a good shot so she can get away with it
> 
> this is part two of three updates today! last one will post in a couple of hours, i think. thanks as always for the support!
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	9. with our backs to the wall, ready aim fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D.Va doesn’t hesitate. She’s barely taken one step in before she’s firing, fusion cannons steady and constant in her ears as she mows down bot after bot. She disregards all that make it past her initial barrage; she only suffers a few glancing bullets from them before 76 shoots them down, and soon they’ve progressed at least halfway through the course, a crude imitation of a temple of some sort, D.Va’s guessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> combat!! discoveries!! parent-kid bonding time!!

D.Va doesn’t hesitate. She’s barely taken one step in before she’s firing, fusion cannons steady and constant in her ears as she mows down bot after bot. She disregards all that make it past her initial barrage; she only suffers a few glancing bullets from them before 76 shoots them down, and soon they’ve progressed at least halfway through the course, a crude imitation of a temple of some sort, D.Va’s guessing.  
  
76 lets out a colorful array of swears and the bots on either side of her get a few extra shots in before they are destroyed; “Wasn’t watching my six,” 76 growls at her questioning noise, setting up a biotic field as D.Va brings her mech flush against a wall for cover. “There’ll be a more powerful bot at the end of this. Don’t try to strong-arm it; take cover and whittle it down from afar.”  
  
“Did you see it already?” D.Va asks. 76 doesn’t answer, instead firing off a complete round and reloading, and D.Va only hesitates for a second longer before breaking out of cover to continue her advance. It’s nothing new, him not answering every question she asks; by now, she figures he’s got more than enough to hide and, well, he’s been looking after her long enough for her to trust him.  
  
It turns out she needn’t have bothered questioning him; not thirty seconds later she rounds a corner and then darts backward when the boss bot fires at her. It looks more like a turret, one of those old Bastion models she remembers studying, except immobile and with a lot more armor and a lot of minions. She picks those off as they approach while 76 puts down another biotic field and pushes his back against the wall.  
  
“I’m gonna circle around,” he says after a moment, gunning down a few more of the smaller bots between words. “Can you handle yourself from here?”  
  
“I am not a child,” D.Va retorts, grinning maniacally. “Go on, old man, work your magic.”  
  
“That’s _mister_ old man to you,” 76 says without venom, and then he’s gone, sprinting from cover to cover as the big bot attempts to track and shoot him. D.Va covers him as best she can before turning her attention to the center of the square field, darting out of cover every now and then to fire off a few rounds before darting back in. She and 76 make a game out of it: he fires until he has the big bot’s completely attention, then steps back into cover as D.Va attacks, right up until the big bot’s turned to shoot at her, rinse and repeat.  
  
It’s all fine until a loud blaring screeches in D.Va’s ears, and she jumps in her mech and hits her head and flails and tries to turn it off. The MEKA's taken enough abuse, it seems; she watches with something akin to fear as her left gun goes offline and her mobility is reduced to a sluggish walk. _Damn_. The bot must’ve gotten a few bullets wedged in one of the legs of the mech, and maybe also in the gun.  
  
“ _Shi-bal_ ,” she mutters. 76 is now handling the bot on his own and he’s too far away to throw a biotic field down, not that it would help. She still has one operational gun but for how long? The big bot had smaller bots helping it out, too, and she’s already occupied keeping those away from her with the single fusion cannon. Her mech is falling apart and D.Va can’t focus on anything - there are too many red lights and warning noises and beeps and this isn’t what she wanted, she knows the bot won’t kill her but this, she didn’t want this -  
  
_A last resort._  
  
She breathes in.  
  
“Find cover,” Hana shouts to 76, across the square.  
  
“ _What?_ ”  
  
“Find cover!” she shouts again, and then she activates her rocket booster, slams her hand down on the button she’d been told never to press, and hits the eject button. She goes flying and manages to land in a tight, coiled roll, darting behind the nearest wall and pressing her back to it. “Nerf this!” she yells to the bot, and she braces herself for what will follow.  
  
The sound is incredible. Beyond the sound of circuitry cracking and walls crumbling and who knows what else, the actual explosion makes her ears ring. She regrets not shutting her eyes soon enough, too; she’s not blinded but there are blurry patches in her vision when she cautiously pokes her head out from behind the wall, and she sees that her mech had caused a huge swath of damage. All of the big bot’s minions have been destroyed as well, bits and pieces of them scattered as far as twenty meters away, maybe, she’s not good at judging distances, and.  
  
She’s holding it in her hand; a trigger, like one for a bomb. She’s holding her breath as she presses it, and 76 rolls out of cover to see a mech falls out of the sky and land in front of her, brand new and ready to go. No, that’s not quite right, it hadn’t come from the sky: it had materialized near the ceiling and then dove right towards her position, right in front of her, open so she could climb in and fight again.  
  
_A last resort._ She remembers her trainer telling her she shouldn’t use it unless it’s an emergency. She remembers her trainer telling her about the self-destruct button. She sure as hell doesn’t remember her trainer telling her the mech could self-regenerate, somehow, without breaking the laws of physics, and -  
  
“ _Ileon jenjang_ ,” she says. _Holy shit._  
  
“Language,” 76 says, probably out of reflex and not by virtue of actually understanding her, and then, with traces of anger, “What the _hell_ was that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but when will we get to ~~junkrat~~ more characters, i bemoan along with everyone else
> 
> also, 'shi-bal' means 'fuck' in Korean, apparently. hopefully.
> 
> headcanons (+ trivia):
> 
> \- i could not think of a single way how you could blow up your mech and then call down an identical one without breaking the laws of physics/requiring that South Korea manufactures a new mech every single time this happens, so here's my thoughts on this: mech blows up, blown-up mech pieces come together somehow, mech pieces reconfigure themselves into actual mech, mech is rewired, mech goes back to hana  
> \- IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE. which is why hana also does not get it and also does not question it  
> \- will that bite her in the ass later? _there is a possibility_  
>  \- probably not though. 76 would shoot anything that got too close to her  
> \- will that bite him in the ass later? _there is a distinct possibility_  
>  \- the only person who actively tries to understand how this works is winston or maybe symmetra. symmetra because she has an excellent grasp on physics because of her job and winston because he's the Tech Guy
> 
>  **just a reminder!!** for realsies this time around. i am leaving for europe today, which means any updates after that and until i get back are very doubtful. (i will try! but no promises.) i will return on the 22nd and be very tired, but i've got chapters pre-written so i can post stuff right away. cool! so thanks again for the support and thanks in advance for your patience! :)
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	10. first time at this rodeo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana gapes at her mech. 76 is swiftly at her side, almost faster than she can blink, and then he has a grip on her arm, voice rumbling as he demands, “What did you just do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dad: 76 takes the wheel
> 
> (look who found some wi-fi!! I'm posting this from my phone!!)

Hana gapes at her mech. 76 is swiftly at her side, almost faster than she can blink, and then he has a grip on her arm, voice rumbling as he demands, “What did you just do?”  
  
“I,” she starts, swallows, starts again, “I was told to use it as a last resort, eum, but I. Was not expecting…”  
  
She makes a few wild gestures to the MEKA in front of her, humming peacefully as it awaits its operator. It looks exactly like her old one, probably functions exactly like her old one, but there’s no way it should be here.  
  
“Would your superiors know if you used this?” 76 snaps, though he appears to soften when she flinches, his grip loosening and his posture becoming more relaxed.  
  
“I do not think so. I have - I have not used it myself, but people in my squad have before. They were never docked pay or anything of, of the sort. As far as I know.” She wraps her arms around herself. “If they did, I don’t think it would be easily tracked, there’s no way to know where the mech will land after it is reconstructed.” She swallows hard and says more quietly, “I d-did not think it would be so destructive.”  
  
There’s a few quiet moments as 76 stares at her, contemplative. Hana doesn’t meet his visor with her eyes as he sighs.  
  
“There’s a good possibility that I would’ve died, had I been in the open,” he says, the hand on her arm shifting so that it’s on her shoulder. Hana exhales loudly, breath shuddering, and his voice is gentle. “You saw how powerful that explosion was. What if the wall you’d been hiding behind collapsed? What if the ceiling fell in?”  
  
She hadn’t even thought of that. “I did not mean for it to happen,” she says in a small voice, because she’d done the only thing she thought she could do, even if it had been a bit preemptive; nothing here is out to kill them. She had overreacted, plain and simple. “I panicked. I should have asked you for advice.”  
  
“Yes, you should have,” 76 says firmly. “It’s all well and good to take initiative, but if you don’t know what to do, you should ask for help. Okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Hana agrees, shoulders slumping. His hand is a heavy weight, but it’s reassuring, too; grounding her, in a way. He’s still here. He doesn’t hate her.  
  
76 sighs, long and drawn-out. When he speaks again, she’s startled to hear that his voice is warm. “I’m not saying you did the wrong thing, but it would’ve been nice to know about it before you did it.” She nods, and he nods back as he says, “You’re fine, Hana, as long as you learn to be careful about this. Blowing up an enemy is good, but not when you blow up a teammate, too - or yourself.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“Good.” He squeezes her shoulder before his hand drops. “Back to Tracer and McCree, then. Should’ve been a good enough show.”  
  
“I want to shower.”  
  
“Could sleep for a week, probably,” 76 agrees, and that brings a smile to her face. “C’mon. Shouldn’t keep them waiting,” and with a nod she slips into her new mech. Picking their way out of the range is much easier than pushing in, and when they step over the threshold and the bots begin to be swept away - Athena’s doing, Hana guesses - Tracer’s eyes are wide while McCree lifts his hands and gives them three slow claps. 76 steps over to them, Hana close behind, only stopping when they are a few feet away from the pair.

“That’s certainly a way t’make an impression,” McCree says after a moment, nodding to Hana.  
  
“Did we pass your test?” 76 says without inflection, drawing the attention back to himself. His arms are crossed, his rifle replaced on his back; it’s clear he’s saying that while he’s not a threat, he could be in a moment’s notice.  
  
“I was right impressed,” Tracer assures him with a smile. “Very efficient. The two of you work well together.”  
  
“Been watchin’ old Overwatch vids, yeah?” McCree says, tilting his head at 76. “I could tell. Used some old Overwatch tactics in there.”  
  
76 stiffens for a split second. Hana doesn’t miss the way McCree’s eyes flash, as 76 instantly recovers and mutters, “Acknowledged,” followed shortly by, “Commander Jack Morrison had good strategies.”  
  
Tracer’s smile wavers slightly at the name while McCree shows no outward reaction beyond a tip of his hat. Hana watches this with interest but keeps her mouth shut.  
  
“Well, reckon you’ve done a good enough job,” McCree drawls, as if she had not blown up part of a training range. Athena probably will not be happy about that. “Let’s go see if Angel’s willin’ to meetcha, and then we’ll get ya both to your rooms. Oh, and you can leave the mech, darlin’.”  
  
“I’m not your ‘darling’,” Hana mutters as Tracer zips away, presumably to where this Angel - Angela? - person is. 76 waits for her to power down her mech and slip out before the two of them follow after McCree, and he gives her shoulder one last pat as they go. She can’t help but smile: as strange as he may be, 76 is always watching her six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanons:
> 
> \- hana is very much an introvert who has learned how to be very extroverted; in a way, playing video games is therapeutic because it gives her Alone Time and allows her to kind of breathe and let go and stuff  
> \- she adores streaming, though, don't get her wrong. she just needs time to herself to recover  
> \- very few people are privy to hana's private, quiet self; most only know her as d.va  
> \- 76 actually has a great sense of humor and dry wit but doesn't often show it off  
> \- 76's modus operandi when it comes to distressed kids is to console them gruffly. it usually works, much to everyone's surprise (including his)
> 
> i'm still in europe, by the by! just happened upon some wi-fi :)
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	11. the doctor is in and heroes never die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tracer is nowhere in sight when McCree leads them to their destination apparent, the medbay. It’s probably the cleanest place in the entire area, and Hana makes a mental note to figure out how to get here as McCree knocks on the door before stepping in unannounced. She and 76 exchange glances before following him in, revealing a pristine, white-washed room that smelled faintly of disinfectant and something else, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mercy!! oh gosh. i love mercy. i play as mercy all the time, unless it's better that i play lucio or there's an opportunity to play symmetra (I LOVE SYMMETRA).
> 
> i'm still in europe! do not be deceived. i just happened upon some wifi and thought i would post something!

Tracer is nowhere in sight when McCree leads them to their destination apparent, the medbay. It’s probably the cleanest place in the entire area, and Hana makes a mental note to figure out how to get here as McCree knocks on the door before stepping in unannounced. She and 76 exchange glances before following him in, revealing a pristine, white-washed room that smelled faintly of disinfectant and something else, too.  
  
“Lena?” McCree calls.  
  
“In here!” Tracer calls back, and one flash of blue later she’s leaning against the doorframe to - maybe a examination room? Hana’s not sure. “The doctor’s not quite done yet, but - ”  
  
“No, no, it’s all right. I can use a short break.” That’s a female voice, accented in a way that Hana can’t quite pinpoint. European countries tend to blend together after a while, at least in her mind. “What is it? Did Jesse shoot up the wall again?”  
  
“Christ Almighty, when’re all y’all gonna put it to rest?”  
  
“When you stop sounding so indignant about it,” the voice answers, sounding amused. Tracer steps away from the doorframe when another woman steps out and - Hana stares. Blond hair swept into a neat ponytail, smooth features, a benevolent smile, and beside her, 76 goes completely and utterly still. “Oh! I didn’t realize you had guests with you.”  
  
“Lena didn’t tell you anythin’?” McCree says, giving Tracer a mock-scolding look. “That’s it, yer grounded.”  
  
“I got distracted,” Tracer says defensively. “She and Winston have been working on a new chrono whatchamacallit and she was explaining it to me. And since when did you have the authority to ground - ”  
  
“Hush,” presumably Angela interrupts. She turns to them with a kind smile as both Tracer and McCree shut up immediately, which tells Hana that the doctor can be very scary when she wants to be. “Winston mentioned a few minutes ago that we had new recruits. My name is Angela Ziegler; it’s lovely to meet you.”  
  
“I am D.Va,” Hana says, mustering a small nod. Dr. Ziegler must recognize her streamer tag because her smile widens, and Hana takes that as her cue to gesture to her companion and say, “This is Soldier: 76.”  
  
There’s a brief pause before Dr. Ziegler asks, “That is your name?”  
  
“Yes,” 76 says, the exact same thing he’d said to Hana when she had asked. “Soldier or 76 is fine.”  
  
Dr. Ziegler continues to look the both of them over, perfect lips pursed slightly, eyes narrowed in thought. After a moment of this, she nods, as if coming to a decision. “You both seem to be in good health, though I notice Soldier has a few bumps and bruises. Did you force them through a simulation?”  
  
“Winston’s orders,” Tracer pipes up.  
  
Dr. Ziegler lets out an irritated sigh. “They are both suffering from fatigue and, of course, he must test them first. I will have to talk to him.” Something beeps in the room behind her and she glances over her shoulder, just for a second, before looking at the both of them again. “I advise you to get some sleep. With the way world events are playing out, we will not have much time to relax. That includes you as well, Jesse.”  
  
“Can’t keep my from my beauty rest, doc,” McCree answers in a way that suggests he’s lying through his teeth.  
  
“If you require sleeping aids, you need but ask,” Dr. Ziegler says neutrally and _ooh_ , Hana is liking this woman. McCree ducks his head, properly chastised. “Lena, I believe we have a few rooms open, yes?”  
  
“Haven’t been cleaned much yet, but I can show them the way!”  
  
“Good.” Dr. Ziegler smiles at Hana first and then 76. “I’m sure we will be seeing a lot of each other in the future. Sleep well.”  
  
“ _Kamsahamnida_ ,” Hana says, bowing her head slightly. She’s not sure if Dr. Ziegler understood how formal that was, but the intent is clear: _thank you_.  
  
“Look forward to working together,” 76 echoes.  
  
The phrase is innocent enough, but Hana knows enough of 76’s tells to recognize that Dr. Ziegler’s split-second hesitation is suspicious; Hana glances over at 76 and notes how still he had remained since seeing Dr. Ziegler, and theories begin to swirl in her mind. McCree's, too, given the quiet focused expression on his face.  
  
“This way, loves!” Tracer calls, zooming towards the exit of the medbay, and with one last lingering look at the doctor 76 turns and follows, Hana on his heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **reinhardt** : angela ziegler... how do i begin to explain angela ziegler?  
>  **pharah** : angela ziegler is flawless.  
>  **lucio** : she owns two caduceus weapons and a valkyrie suit.  
>  **symmetra** : i hear her hair's insured for 10,000 credits.  
>  **zarya** : i hear she does EMT commercials... in russia.  
>  **genji** : her favorite movie is first responders.  
>  **mei** : one time she met jack morrison on a plane...  
>  **tracer** : ... and he told her she was a great medic.  
>  **mccree** : one time she punched me in the face... it was awesome.
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- everyone fears doctor angela ziegler, as they should  
> \- angela is the most emotionally stable of the Overwatch team, as well as the most mentally stable. you could torture her for hours and she'd take it in silence with a terrifying smile  
> \- mccree shot up the wall when he was practicing dead-eye. he hit every target, but since this was the first time he'd done it at a range, athena had not prepared bots that could stop the bullets - so they went right through and hit the wall. he practiced dead-eye more than once and thusly shot up the wall in the process, and even though it's not completely his fault everyone gives him a hard time about it  
> \- lena actually knows how her chronal accelerator works, down to its precise mechanisms. she just pretends she doesn't so she doesn't have to explain it because it 'takes too long'  
> \- 76 was definitely sweet on angela at some point of his life (that is a ship that will not be seen in this fic, before anyone asks). hell, everyone was sweet on angela at some point in their lives  
> \- hana is probably the least intimidated by angela because she's young and curious  
> \- winston and angela work closely together on their projects but often argue about them
> 
> i'm still in europe at the moment, just a reminder! don't expect many updates until after the 22nd!
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	12. it's a brand new day, or at least it will be soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And here’s your room!”
> 
> Hana expects something like a dorm room: a cot, a bedside table, a desk if she’s lucky. Bland walls and wood floors, maybe, with a tiny window, no closet, a communal bathroom down the hall. Wouldn’t be any different than military barracks is what she’s thinking, so she’s already braced herself for the worst because Tracer had said the rooms hadn’t been cleaned up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hana is a independent young lady. she is nineteen, after all, and ariel was only sixteen when she got married so
> 
> (thanks for all of your sweet comments by the way! i read them and fall in love with you every time <3)

“And here’s your room!”  
  
Hana expects something like a dorm room: a cot, a bedside table, a desk if she’s lucky. Bland walls and wood floors, maybe, with a tiny window, no closet, a communal bathroom down the hall. Wouldn’t be any different than military barracks is what she’s thinking, so she’s already braced herself for the worst because Tracer had said the rooms hadn’t been cleaned up.  
  
What she gets instead is this: a bunk bed, with sheets and comforters. A bedside table with two drawers. A nice desk; a big desk. A dresser and a closet. Her own bathroom, with shower included when she peers inside. Dark blue carpet, white walls, pictures hung up tastefully. A skylight and a window. Two lamps. Outlets and, hell, a power strip. The door itself has a lock and key, but can also be opened by a card in the scanning thing by the doorknob. Like a hotel, almost, but Hana is a little too busy gaping to notice.  
  
“S’little dusty,” Tracer says cheerfully; she’d been waiting outside the door when McCree had finally led them to the barracks, bouncing from foot to foot. “But it should do the job! What do you think, love?”  
  
“It looks great,” Hana says, and she means it.  
  
“Smashing! I'll you settle in and take a shower, bring you some clothes, you can probably fit into mine. Cheers!”  
  
And just like that she zips down the hallway and is gone. McCree just shakes his head, amused, and 76 looks over at Hana briefly before tilting his head and following the cowboy down the hall. Hana stays out just long enough to see which room is his (it’s the one next to hers, and she’s sure that’s on purpose). Once that’s done she closes the door and pads to the bathroom, flicking on the light to reveal powder-blue tiles on the floor and halfway up the walls, more white wallpaper, a stand-up shower with a blue and white polka-dotted curtain. A fan whirrs softly as she peels her bodysuit off, and she can’t hold back a sigh of relief as the warm water hits her shoulders.  
  
She takes her time scrubbing clean - she’s bathed, sure, but she hasn’t had time to shave her armpits and, well, periods suck but they happen and it's a little gross - and it’s a little over a half-hour before she emerges from the steam, wrapped in a light blue towel. (A shame the color scheme for this room couldn’t be pink, really.) Peeking out the door reveals that Tracer had dropped some clothes off already, a pair of black sweats and a T-shirt that reads PRESS HERE TO ACTIVATE MY BRITISH ACCENT, and then she gathers up her bodysuit and decides to try and find a laundry machine. She’s only got one bra, after all, which is balled up inside the suit. Shopping is in order, hopefully sometime soon.  
  
She wanders down the corridor, tempted to knock on 76's door but deciding against it - he's probably napping - and instead finds herself in the mess hall. There’s clanging coming from what she presumes is the kitchen; a quick peek inside reveals McCree making something in a pot over the stove.  
  
Does she really want to interact with McCree right now? Not that he dislikes her, but he is pretty intimidating and she can probably find the laundry room on her own. But what they don't have one and she has to go to, like, a laundromat or whatever? Do they even have laundromats around here? _Probably best to ask,_ she thinks, and so with a small, resigned sigh she pushes through the door.  
  
“’Lo, darlin’,” McCree says and of course he had noticed her before she’d even walked in. Probably laughing to himself when he saw her hesitate, actually, and Hana feels a slight burn on her cheeks. “Don’t suppose you’d like some coffee?”  
  
“That is coffee?” she asks, and McCree moves his hand to reveal a bag of coffee beans. So it is. She decides to channel D.Va and be a bit more outgoing because they're teammates or whatever now, so she says, “If I were not planning to sleep after washing this, I would. Sorry.”  
  
“No worries. Reckoned I should ask, is all.” McCree measures out some beans in his hand - strangely imprecise but Hana would not be surprised if it happened to be just the right amount - and then looks up, as if realizing what she had said. “Lookin’ for the washin’ machines, then?”  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“You’re not too far off. Just keep goin’ down the hall past here and it’s to yer left. Third door down.”  
  
“Okay.” She smiles. “Thank you, _kauboi_.”  
  
He laughs at that. “I don’t need t’speak Korean to know what that meant. Git.”  
  
She gives him a little wave before darting out and following his directions. There are a couple of machines lined up; she can see one already contains 76’s jacket and briefly wonders if McCree had lent him some clothes (and whether she could get photographic evidence of it). She loads up her suit with bra and underwear, dumps some soap in there, turns it on - and contemplates if she could get her hands on a computer. She’s been offline for so long, she’s sure people think she’s dead.  
  
_One thing at a time_ , she tells herself, and she settles in to wait, feeling more at peace than she has in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [this](http://skreened.com/render-product/e/o/u/eougpiwnaklryawpggyh/image.skreened-t-shirt.white.w460h520b3z1.jpg) is the t-shirt tracer gives hana
> 
> did all y'all see the news about ana amari?? bruh. i'm so excited. if i wasn't in switzerland right now I'd be playing her <3
> 
> only a few headcanons this time around because i'm on my phone and typing is hard work! lmao. oh, but there will be Things happening in the next chapter! brace yourselves.
> 
> EDIT: LOOK AT THIS FANART [hydrachea](http://hydracheart.tumblr.com/) MADE IT'S GORGEOUS AND BEAUTIFUL GO LOOK AT IT [HERE](http://hydracheart.tumblr.com/post/149325397737). it is of the clothes hana is wearing this chapter (and also 76 later on c:)  
> 
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- hana's room is spotless except for her desk. her desk is a mess because she is totally a gremlin who eats chips and drinks her own brand of soda and yells "GG" after winning a game and spamming ;)  
> \- 76 buys earplugs once hana gets a computer


	13. tile makes a comfortable pillow i promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long day for Hana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're back!
> 
> i had a wonderful time in europe!! learned a lot of cool stuff, saw a lot of cool stuff, ate a lot of cool stuff, the whole nine yards. it was fantastic and i love paris and everywhere else i went and i am so lucky to have been able to go. wowie!
> 
> in other news, updates aren't going to be as fast as the last round because ~*college*~ and other scary things have to be worked out :o but i will do my best to update at least once per day, maybe more if i can get to it. i love small chapters! they make everything so easy. it's like instant gratification for me and you, right? good stuff.
> 
> in other other news, i'm still mooching off a friend's computer because mine is still, inexplicably, in the shop (or whatever you call it when a computer goes in for repairs). so it's been interesting trying to work on other things, which means this gets pretty much my full attention.

“Shouldn’t be sleeping here, Hana.”  
  
Hana doesn’t deign that with a response, instead curling up more tightly into a ball - she’ll sleep wherever she damn well pleases, thank you very much, even if the floor is tiled and hard and the wall doesn’t make a good headrest. As a result, she almost screams and punches 76 when he puts a hand on her shoulder, adrenaline roaring through her bloodstream as she fights to control her sudden, rapid-fire breathing. Even then, it takes a few moments to register that he is crouched in front of her, that she’s staring at his red visor, that his jacket is draped over his arm and he is wearing what looks like plain, navy-blue pajamas.  
  
It comes to her slowly as her breath evens out; right, she’d come to wash her clothes, only to have dozed off before the machine finished its cycle. Checking the window of her washing machine reveals her bodysuit is elsewhere, however, and 76 evidently follows her gaze because he says, “Put ‘em in the dryer for you.”  
  
Ah. She nods in thanks, but then frowns because that means he had touched her undergarments. “That is gross, 76.”  
  
He of course understands her meaning right away. “Don’t give a crap,” he informs her, entirely deadpan, and Hana laughs, reassured. “’Sides, not like it’s the first time.”  
  
“Kids?” Hana guesses. That would explain some things.  
  
“Something like that.”  
  
“What does that mean?” she asks, laughing again.  
  
“Maybe I’ll tell you someday.” His hand leaves her shoulder as he stands up, though he offers it to her a moment later. She takes it, stifling a yawn, and allows him to pull her to her feet. “Think you can walk?”  
  
“I am sleepy, not concussed.” She goes for irritated but can’t help but smile when he chuckles, low and rasping. “What time is it?”  
  
“Around 1800 hours or so, a bit earlier. They’re making dinner in the mess.” She casts one last, fleeting glance at her laundry before following him out of the room. “Think you can manage without brushing your teeth?”  
  
“Wow, dad,” Hana says with a snort, keeping pace alongside him despite his longer strides. She doesn’t miss the startled glance he flashes her way, but then he’s shaking his head with a long, drawn-out sigh and Hana, unrepentant, snickers.  
  
“You look ridiculous,” he tells her a moment later. Saving face, she’s sure.  
  
“Yeah, well,” and she casts a significant glance at his clothes, “You look old, so fair is fair.”  
  
“McCree has bad taste.”  
  
“That is no excuse.”  
  
“Can’t change how I look,” he tries.  
  
“It is entirely possible to dye your hair.”  
  
The easy banter between them continues all the way to the mess hall, which is depressingly empty for such a large room; McCree lounges at one of the tables - still dressed in his cowboy attire, though he’s ditched the chestplate - while absently tapping the surface of a datapad, but other than him, the room is deserted. Though Hana can hear Tracer and Winston singing some kind of duet together in the kitchen, accompanying each other on pots and pans, it’s not the same as having them physically in the room. The tables are so long that everyone at this Watchpoint, even with Winston’s girth, could fit easily in one half of a table.  
  
“Evenin’, Soldier, sleepin’ beauty,” McCree says, flicking 76 a lazy, two-fingered salute. He hasn’t looked up from his datapad once; Hana decides it’s entirely useless to combat the man’s insatiable need to nickname her. “Nice PJs.”  
  
“No thanks to you,” 76 answers. His voice is low, as always, but it comes across as friendly. Teasing, even, though Hana couldn’t begin to guess why. “How old are these?”  
  
“Heck if I know, Soldier. They’re clean, though, better than what you had before.”  
  
“They feel like they’ve been starched. Three times.”  
  
“Well, now, are you saying random clothes from vacuum storage bags ain’t up to par? Mighty harsh of you, partner.”  
  
“They make him look old,” Hana pipes up.  
  
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” McCree replies with a shit-eating grin.  
  
76 makes a sound between a sigh and a groan and mutters, “Can’t believe I’m willing to go clothes shopping of my own volition.”  
  
“I will go with you,” Hana tells him loftily, grinning when he makes the same sound again. McCree is laughing as she insists, “It will be fun.”  
  
“No, it probably won’t,” 76 disagrees, but she can tell that underneath his mask, he’s smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> awkward finish! i woke up four hours earlier than i usually do, though. jetlag can be kind of a pain in the ass.
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- mccree's typing speed is 32 wpm  
> \- winston's is 120, but only if he has his special gorilla keyboard. otherwise it's 10 because his fingers are too big and hitting backspace usually involves hitting other buttons too and no one talks about the time when they lost his gorilla keyboard. the scars are still fresh  
> \- after hana's impromptu nap in the laundry room, 76 requests that a beanbag be put there, which is granted  
> \- winston secret talent is origami  
> \- (hanzo hasn't been introduced yet but he sucks ass at origami)  
> \- tracer can play drum set like no one's business and had continuously petitioned former overwatch authority to make an overwatch band. she was shot down every time. this time will be different, though, she can feel it  
> \- 76 used to be in charge of laundry back when he was jack, but only because he was the only one who knew how much detergent to put into the washer and no one else bothered to figure it out  
> \- coincidentally, jack had to be present whenever the dishwasher was in use because of the one time someone ( ~~gabriel reyes~~ ) put liquid dish soap into it. 76 doesn't know it yet but this is still true
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	14. you don't need a silver fork to eat good food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eating together is bonding together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone was so kind with their comments! it's not really possible for me to be in love with all of you but every single time i see those comments i get a little melty inside and you are all lovely people. you are the reason i write so quickly! thank you!
> 
> anyway. onward!

“Shopping will have to wait until tomorrow,” McCree informs them, lip quirking up in amusement at Hana’s pout. “Not t’mention, there’s no way either of you can go lookin’ the way you do. Gotta be disguised.”  
  
While he’s talking, 76 slips into the seat across from him, the only sign of a grimace being his furrowed brows. Hana, of course, places herself right next to him, grandly ignoring McCree’s snort of amusement. “He will probably look better that way,” Hana says in answer to McCree’s comment, pointing to 76.  
  
“Harsh,” 76 replies without missing a beat, “Now if only we could get you a new attitude.”  
  
Hana sniffs, choosing not to respond. McCree’s smile widens, and he tilts his chin towards the kitchen; his curls are so thick that his hat doesn’t so much as shift from its perch on his head. “Bring it up with Winston. Big guy will think of somethin’ - not the attitude part, the disguise part,” he adds quickly at Hana’s glare.  
  
“Quickly, I hope,” 76 grumbles, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. It’s button up and it’s a little loose on him, but from where she’s sitting right next to him, she can hear the fabric make audible scratching noises as he pinches and rubs it between his fingers. Starched three times, indeed. Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately, Hana isn’t sure - whatever 76’s going to say next is interrupted by a joyful shout of “Food’s ready, loves!”  
  
Dinner comes in the form of a traditional English breakfast, at least according to Tracer when she zips out of the kitchen, two plates balanced on two hands. This results in a plate of bacon and sausage arranged into a smiley face on a slice of toast, scrambled eggs serving as the face’s hair with tomatoes, small bits of sausage, and mushrooms put in such a way that they look like hair ornaments. Baked beans take up the rest of the plate, of what little that remains uncovered at least, and all in all Hana doesn’t realize how hungry she is until she smells it even if it’s not something she’s ever had before.  
  
“Breakfast is served!” Tracer announces, setting down a plate first in front of Hana and then in front of 76. She pauses, her face dropping into a contemplative look. “Even if it’s dinnertime.”  
  
“It looks delicious,” Hana tells her. 76 lets out a noise of agreement.  
  
A wide smile blooms on Tracer’s face. “Hopefully it will taste just as good, yeah?” She’s gone and back in a few seconds with a plate for McCree and for herself, though she doesn’t sit down yet. The cowboy gives her a nod of thanks as Tracer cheerily goes on, “Winston has to help with the eggs, since they always come out a tad wonky when I make ‘em. Team effort!”  
  
As if on cue, Winston lumbers out of the kitchen, balancing one last plate and a lot of silverware on his arm as he makes his way over to the table. It must be for Dr. Ziegler seeing as she doubts Winston would want to eat this, and Hana watches with no small degree of fascination as the gorilla skillfully places the dish, forks and knives on the table, smiling widely as he does so. It’s apparent he’s had a lot of practice, and Hana recalls that he’d been the one to send out the recall for Overwatch, at least according to 76; _did he miss this? Is he happy that a newbie like me joined the ranks?_  
  
“I’ve already called Angela on comm, she’ll be here shortly,” the gorilla informs them as he settles not at the table but nearby. While these tables appear to be sturdy, he'd likely break the benches pulled out from underneath them.  
  
“What about you?” Hana asks, curious, figuring it can’t hurt to start building connections and rapport between them. It’s always been her modus operandi to know her teammates as fast as she can; it’s saved her skin more than once in her MEKA squad, knowing her squad’s strengths and weaknesses and personality, and from what she’s heard she knows Overwatch will be if not similar then the same. “What do you eat?”  
  
Winston grins and reaches behind him. When he pulls out a banana, Hana can’t help the startled laugh that escapes her, and when she sees the jar of peanut butter the laugh turns into giggles.  
  
“Gotta ask, how many jars do you go through a day?” 76 asks, leaning over on the table. He’s going to have to take his visor off to eat, at least partially; Hana’s seen it before, but she can tell McCree and Tracer are visibly curious.  
  
“Only one,” Winston says defensively.  
  
“Usually two to three,” Dr. Ziegler’s voice corrects gently, and Hana peers over McCree’s head to see the doctor entering the mess. Winston lets out a prolonged sigh - must be a recurring argument - as Dr. Ziegler points out, “It really is not a healthy habit, Winston. If anything, you should be consuming more vegetables and different varieties of fruit.”  
  
“It’s a good source of protein!”  
  
“And fats and oils,” Dr. Ziegler says dryly, taking the spot next to Tracer, the pilot now sandwiched between the doctor and McCree. Winston looks geared up to fight back, but Dr. Ziegler merely shakes her head and says, “Another argument for another time, however. This looks fantastic, Lena.”  
  
“Dig right on in, then!” Tracer says cheerily, taking the wind out of Winston's sails just like that.  
  
“ _Jal meokgetseumnida,_ ” Hana says aloud, and she doesn’t think Tracer understands her but the woman laughs anyway as Hana stabs a piece of bacon with her fork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eumsig-eul jusyeoseo gamsahabnida - 음식을 주셔서 감사합니다 - thank you for the food (again i'm never one hundred percent on these things so if it's wrong tell me right away please!!) **EDIT:** i have been informed 'Jal meokgetseumnida' is a better thing to say before eating. domo arigato, calmAnarchist!
> 
> title of chapter is a paul prudhomme quote. don't really know who he is. however, his last name is weird because the bilingual in me is like 'homme means man in french!' while also going 'prud must be short for prude??' so i'm thinking his name is paul prudeman. ~~ignore me pls~~
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- when genji joins the reformed overwatch, he suggests that they play diner dash real-life version™: lena is flo, reinhardt/winston/lúcio/hana trade off as cooks, the rest of them act as customers. they do this every wednesday and/or whenever tracer gets a new chronal accelerator  
> \- (if you've never played [diner dash](http://www.shockwave.com/gamelanding/dinerdash.jsp) i can almost guarantee you've played a variant of it)  
> \- hana is actually a pretty decent cook and knows how to make a lot of traditional korean dishes. getting her up and actually in the kitchen is the hard part, however, so it's not often everyone gets to enjoy her food  
> \- symmetra is a five-star baker because she is an absolute stickler for measurements, times, temperatures, etc. junkrat and roadhog especially would murder for her cupcakes which of course are perfectly frosted with light blue frosting and perfectly wrapped in white wrappers and such  
> \- however: whenever symmetra is baking, someone must be there to supervise to make sure she doesn't throw out the defects. everyone wants this job because that means they can eat said defects. junkrat usually gets it because he's kind of scary  
> \- lena can cook one dish and one dish only  
> \- everyone else is a terrible cook/baker and cannot be trusted with a pepper grinder, let alone a pot of boiling water
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	15. dinner is served with a side of awkwardness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you thought it was going to be team bonding time, but nooooooo.

The others waste no time in diving into the meal, and though Hana’s stomach rumbles, she pauses to cast a questioning glance at 76. He nods to her and she turns back to the table as he stands, plate and silverware in hand.  
  
“Yer not gonna eat?” McCree asks after a few bites, tilting his head towards 76.  
  
“He does not eat with strangers,” Hana chirps, which is a goddamn lie because he’s eaten in front of her before. She hadn’t been a person intent on turning him in to the authorities, however, thus the extension of trust.  
  
“And he couldn’t have told us that himself?” McCree inquires, all feigned nonchalance.  
  
“Would’ve sounded weird from me,” 76 rumbles. Hana wants to groan, but there isn’t much else he could say without sounding even more blatantly suspicious. “Better when she explains it.”  
  
“If that is the case,” Dr. Ziegler says with a tilt of her head, “Perhaps you would prefer to eat in the kitchen?”  
  
Tracer makes a disappointed sound as 76 takes Dr. Ziegler’s suggestion and begins to walk towards the back of the mess. “So we can’t all eat together?”  
  
“Nope,” 76 says. He still looks unbelievably stupid with his hi-tech visor and his pajamas. “I’ll clean up after myself, no worries.”  
  
With that he turns the corner and disappears from view. Hana, unperturbed, continues munching away at her dinner; though the flavors are odd and unfamiliar, it’s pretty tasty, all things considered. She’s about halfway through her plate when Winston finally takes a subdued bite of his banana, and then everyone else slowly tucks into their meal, casting wary glances towards the kitchen all the while.

Hana gets a feeling that these dinners are usually pretty loud, but can't find it in her to feel guilty on 76's behalf for ruining the dynamic. He has his reasons. She understands them, even if these people don't.

“Relax!” Hana chirps after what she thinks is maybe three minutes of tense silence, her plate relatively clean. She ends up startling Winston enough that the gorilla flinches. “It is not anything personal, just a safety precaution.”  
  
“I must ask, have you seen his face, D.Va?” Dr. Ziegler asks, and when Hana meets the doctor’s eyes her chest tightens with a sudden, inexplicable sense of unease, as if she had just been strapped to an examination table with no way to move or escape. She nods in answer and Dr. Ziegler asks, “Is he merely self-conscious about his appearance?”  
  
“I do not know,” Hana says, unable to tear her eyes away. She tilts her head. “However, he does have a very high bounty on his head. I cannot blame him for being a little paranoid.”  
  
“I heard that,” 76 calls from the kitchen. Soon after ensue sounds that suggest he is washing dishes.  
  
Dr. Ziegler stares at her for a little longer before sighing and placing a piece of toast in her mouth, followed shortly thereafter by a bit of sausage and egg. Hana’s already done with her plate, as are Tracer and McCree, and Winston is dipping a finger into his jar of peanut butter with a thoughtful look on his face; Hana briefly considers asking for seconds but decides against it when Dr. Ziegler swallows her mouthful and concedes, “I suppose he does have good reason to keep some secrets.”  
  
Her timing could not be better, as 76 is just walking out of the kitchen but is too far to overhear her words. He casts Hana a glance when he sits down to which she smiles and nods, and then everyone picks up their plates and moves towards the room 76 had just left.  
  
“Board games!” Tracer announces after the dishwasher is running. Hana finds it endlessly amusing that 76 had to physically intervene and show the woman how much powder soap to put in it.  
  
“No,” Dr. Ziegler says with a tone of finality, and when Tracer droops, the doctor points out, “I need to make sure 76 and D.Va are medically sound, Lena, not to mention you should check over their rooms and ensure they have all they need to be comfortable. We are good hosts, not buffoons. - No offense intended, Winston.”  
  
“None taken,” Winston says. He still has his jar of peanut butter as he shrugs. “It’s true, in any case.”  
  
And with that, a pouting Tracer trails after McCree out of the mess hall, only halfheartedly engaging in the cowboy’s attempts at conversation, while Dr. Ziegler begins ushering 76 and Hana towards what Hana assumes is the medbay.  
  
McCree leaves behind his datapad. Hana chances a look before she leaves the table; though she’s always been good at reading quickly in English due to her gaming, she only manages to catch _Hanzo Shimada_ written in neat, small letters at the top of the screen before she’s pulled away.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do i ship mchanzo? uh. uhhhh. yes
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- 76 couldn't give a rat's ass about his appearance at any given time, thus his garish red-white-blue outfit  
> \- mercy eats very prettily when she's around people. when she is alone, eating is fast, vicious, and messy. like, really messy. like food-all-over-her-face-and-talking-with-her-mouth-full-if-necessary messy  
> \- mccree claims to have excellent southern gentlemen manners but takes great and peculiar amusement in slamming doors on people instead of holding them open to allow said people to pass  
> \- winston once got his mouth stuck closed for almost three hours when he put too much peanut butter in his mouth at once. no one in the original overwatch has forgotten this no matter how much he hopes they have  
> \- when the original overwatch existed, tracer was actually a member of blackwatch. this wasn't because she was a criminal or anything but because her haphazard methods and headstrong personality made her a bit too unpredictable and hard to control for commander morrison  
> \- (i don't think there's any chance in hell that last headcanon could even work in canon, but i like the idea of it too much to let it go)  
>   
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	16. home is where your story begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana sleeps. It gets a little weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we get headcanon-heavy when it comes to hana's family!! this will update if more information about hana becomes available.
> 
> (tw: negligent parenting)

Dr. Ziegler’s medical examination involves a basic physical, taking a blood sample, harassing Hana’s health care provider back home for her immunization records (masquerading as Hana’s mother, of course, with a fancy translator whose model Hana has never seen before), grilling Hana about places she’s been and thusly assessing the risk of developing certain diseases, and gifting her with shampoo and conditioner to use for a week or so to ensure she is infection-free. It’s pretty intensive and takes almost two hours, and by the time Hana and 76 get themselves to the barracks, she’s ready to collapse and pass out for at least eight hours.  
  
“You’ll be okay on your own?” 76 asks her once they reach her door.  
  
“Seventy-six,” she complains, her tone saying it all, and 76 has the grace to at least wince in embarrassment. It's kind of a valid concern, considering they've been sleeping in pretty close proximity over the past month, but on the other hand - she is really _not_ a child, and he knows this.  
  
“Be next door if you need me,” he tacks on anyway, ignoring Hana’s exaggerated groan, and then he’s walking down the hall and she’s dragging herself inside her room. She knows she has a toothbrush in the bathroom - Dr. Ziegler had called Tracer halfway through her examination to make sure Hana got one - but she’s too tired to even think about brushing; the most she can manage is a trip to the toilet and then she’s stumbling to her cot and falling face-first into the pillow. It’s a bad idea because if the pillow had been any firmer she might have broken her nose. _At least that aspect of military life is consistent_ , she thinks, kicking her legs a bit so they actually make it up onto the bed, and that is the last conscious thought she has before she’s out like a light.  
  
She dreams of home.  
  
Well, not really home, per se. Home has always been a confusing blur or give and take, do and not, talk and silence; Hana’s parents had divorced while her mother was pregnant with her, which meant she spent the first ten years of her life coming home to a small, loud house one week, to a large, empty mansion the next. It wouldn’t be until she was eleven that her mother would give up on her precocious daughter who wanted more than she could give, and then Hana would be with her father in his large house with only her friend Nari to keep her company, and even then only at school.  
  
For her, home has never been permanent: it’s an ever-shifting abstract concept she’s never understood, not really. It’s more like something that’s just out of reach, something she could get if she strains a little harder so her fingers will catch and she can pull herself in, something that's always in view in her smiling classmates but never really explainable when she asks.  
  
Her home was drafty and distant, coldly curving and echoing edges and tearing turns. She remembers seeing her father every now and then as he puttered between business calls, remembers Nari moving away and leaving her isolated, remembers downloading _Starcraft II_ and teaching herself how to play from the very beginning. Her memories of home aren’t positive and they aren’t quite negative, either; she’s aware now that her father was negligent, but she was always fed, always clothed, she was disciplined when her grades were poor and was given what she wanted when her grades were good, so it wasn’t as if he wasn’t paying attention. He just wasn’t paying… _enough_ attention, she supposes. Which was the core of the issue, really. It's one thing having the knowledge your parents love you, but quite another to _know_ they do.  
  
So yes, she dreams of home. She dreams of the mansion where she lived, the expansive rooms and the tall walls and the chandeliers and the plush chairs and soft carpet and old wood and advanced tech strung throughout the house. She dreams of the day she came home, crying after Nari said her final goodbye, only to find her father on an unexpected business trip thanks to a note on the fridge. She’s lucid enough to remember that that had been the time she'd bought and downloaded _Starcraft_ , but instead of going to her room like she’d done that day, she steps into the kitchen -  
  
and the dream melds into something else, an air-conditioned stage with rows upon rows stretched out as far as she could see, screaming all around her with her headphones secure over her ears, a small smirk on her lips with her tongue just barely sticking out as her fingers fly across the keyboard. _Starcraft_ responds beautifully to her commands and she laughs when her victory is assured, laughs harder when her fans scream louder as she wins the championship, starts to cry with sheer elation when the paparazzi pounces and bombards her with questions, and she’s just stepped off backstage -  
  
and suddenly she’s in her MEKA with tears prickling the corner of her eyes as she grits her teeth and guns down the men and women and omnics in front of her, their uniforms stark and striking against the terrain behind them, her squadmates lined up besides her to aid in the slaughter. Her father had been so proud when his little daughter had joined the military, but now Hana wonders her mistake as she returns home, blood and dirt caked into her mech while she herself is spotless, her fans clamoring for bloodshed as her trainer nods and suggests maybe streaming her battles was working out even better than they had hoped -  
  
and Hana is woken up by heavy knocking on her door.  
  
It’s a product of living on the run with 76 that she’s awake immediately, all traces of sleepiness gone as she springs to her feet, and it’s fortunate she hadn’t been under the covers - she definitely would’ve gotten tangled in them - as she races to the door. When she throws it open it’s 76. He’s dressed in his battle gear. His pulse rifle is swung over his shoulder. It’s enough to get her blood pumping.  
  
“Emergency mission,” he says, and thrusts something at her - her bodysuit, she realizes as she shakes off the last vestiges of her dreams, and he has her handgun, too, which she grabs after she shifts her clothes under one arm. “Be ready in five.”  
  
“Where’s my mech?” Hana asks, because she knows asking about the mission now will only waste time; 'hurry up and wait' is something she is very used to.  
  
“Waiting in the hangar already. We’ll go together,” 76 says, and it’s D.Va who nods and closes the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two updates in a day! wowza.
> 
> blizzard needs to give me hana's backstory for the love of everything that is good. i need to know what kind of circumstances my precious gremlin child comes from (i am again reminded that i play support heroes almost exclusively and that i've only played d.va once. _she is my bby now do not question_ )
> 
> reminder that nari was mentioned in like chapter 3 or something? she's hana's childhood friend that i came up with so i could link mccree's outfit to old american westerns without... actually i don't know why i did that, but i did, so there you go. she's somehow become more important, as random ocs are wont to do.
> 
> also things are happening?? :o
> 
> headcanons (i apologize they are not that funny this time around):
> 
> \- hana had no problems making friends when she was younger; she just chose not to as time went on, especially after nari moved. her future consisted of taking over for her father, and because she had nothing else to do she cast aside all distractions (except _Starcraft_ ) in order to best follow her dad's footsteps. this changed when she became the defending _Starcraft II_ champion, obviously  
>  \- hana joined the MEKA squad when she was sixteen - technically too young, but she wanted to escape home and her father may have pulled some strings to get the military to accept her early  
> \- when hana went on her first mission, she thought playing video games had desensitized her to violence. she was wrong  
> \- she was very, _very_ wrong  
>  \- it wasn't her idea to stream her battles in her MEKA, though it did help shield her mentally from what was happening around her, given that she would remain in her D.Va mindset while in battle. while that made it a lot easier for her to not flip out during fights, it also took a pretty big emotional toll on her overall  
> \- symmetra is the heaviest sleeper, followed closely by lúcio. all of the soldier-types are light sleepers, but it's actually junkrat who wakes up at the drop of a hat
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	17. OPERATION: EXTRACT TORBJÖRN (part 1 of 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D.Va and the rest of the crew dive in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a longer chapter for all of you today - and tomorrow as well!!

Intrinsically, D.Va knows her bodysuit is kind of crappy armor. It’s tough and resilient all around, doesn’t tear easily, doesn’t stain easily either, but it’s not Kevlar or anything even close to bulletproof. It’s spandex, pretty much, sturdy spandex but spandex just the same, but even so, slipping into it settles D.Va’s nerves into a manageable hum. She shoves her handgun into its waiting holster, throws Tracer’s borrowed clothes onto the bed, and then she’s tucked her card key into her bra and she’s out the door where 76 is waiting.  
  
“Just under a minute,” 76 says when she does so, sounding ever-so-slightly impressed, and she flashes him a grin as he sets off down the hall at a jog. His legs are so much longer than hers, though, meaning a slow jog for him is a fast trot for her. “We’re the last ones, I think.”  
  
“What time is it?”  
  
“Six hundred hours, give or take fifteen minutes.” Eurgh. Back in Korea, she'd be sleeping in for at least another three hours. “Told there’d be breakfast of some kind at the hangar. We’ll see.”  
  
“What is happening?”  
  
“No idea.”  
  
76 easily guides them from the barracks to the outdoors. The sun is just beginning to rise over the ocean, and D.Va breathes in deeply as they make their way over to where the airplanes are housed. The air is fresh and clean and smells of the ocean.  
  
“Overwatch has some nice digs,” she says.  
  
“You’ll change your mind when you see the safehouses they have in the States,” 76 says, which is one of the longest sentences she’s ever heard him utter.  
  
“You assume we will be deployed there at some point?”  
  
“Overwatch was once a U.N.-sanctioned organization. They worked worldwide, once upon a time.”  
  
“I know that,” D.Va says, a little sourly, and 76 chuckles. “I meant that this Overwatch is currently an illegal vigilante group. Given our size, it seems unlikely we will go anywhere overseas anytime soon.”  
  
“You forgot Winston set out a recall. More agents will be coming in soon.”  
  
“A recall?” This is the first she’s heard of this.  
  
76 glances over at her. If she could see his face, she’s sure he’d be giving her an amused look. “How do you think I heard about the revival?”  
  
D.Va’s mind scrabbles a bit at this; something about that seems just a tiny bit off. It takes her a little more time before she says, “Winston only sent out the recall - fairly recently, though, was it not? Otherwise there would be more members here. You have been active for much longer than that.”  
  
76 clucks his tongue, which sounds downright strange coming through his visor. He doesn’t say anything else, though, meaning D.Va’s caught him in a lie, and she doesn’t bring it up as they enter into the hangar and navigate through a sea of dusty crates. She’ll ask him later, maybe, if she thinks it’s important; right now she needs to focus on what Winston wants them to do, if only because she doesn’t want to mess this up right from the start.  
  
Tracer is nowhere to be seen when they finally turn the corner and see what D.Va remembers is called the Thunderbird, which makes sense since she pilots the thing, but McCree, Dr. Ziegler and Winston are milling about outside the plane. Well, milling about isn’t the right word, D.Va supposes, given that the two humans are listening to Winston rattle something off with identical frowns on their faces. Clearly whatever mission they’re supposed to be doing is rather important, and as D.Va and 76 approach she can see her mech is already nestled inside the plane itself. _I wonder how they got it in there._  
  
“Glad to see you made it in one piece,” Winston says when he catches sight of them, breaking off his conversation with McCree and Dr. Ziegler. D.Va and 76 nod in return, and she takes a moment to examine his attire; apparently he’d been wearing the gorilla equivalent of civvies last night, because now he’s in white-plated armor with rocket boosters of some kind on his back, and he’s holding what D.Va would tentatively call a Tesla cannon. Dr. Ziegler is dressed in a similar armor, pristine and reflective, and she’s holding a long staff in one hand along with a pistol tucked at her waist. McCree, of course, is in his cowboy attire, with his revolver in its holster. What strikes Hana as more interesting is the cold weather gear visible in one corner of the cargo bay; clearly, they’re going somewhere where it’ll be needed. “I’ll brief you during transport.”  
  
“Acknowledged,” 76 says. It’s interesting how quickly he can shift from being in charge to following orders, which only makes D.Va wonder just what his life was like before - well, before he got the scars on his face, she supposes. She’s seen them when they were on the run, and they were _long_ scars that slipped under the collar of his shirt. Whoever he’d been before Soldier: 76 had gone through a lot of shit.  
  
With that being said, the five of them enter the plane - Winston, McCree, 76, her, trailed by Dr. Ziegler. Then the cargo doors are shutting and Tracer announces over intercom, “Should be there in a tick, loves. Be sure to buckle up!”  
  
“At the speeds we will be going, buckling up is pointless,” D.Va says before she can think about it, smirking slightly when McCree lets out a startled laugh. Beside her, 76 shakes his head, fondly she thinks. “Not that it matters. What are we doing?”  
  
Winston pushes his glasses further up his nose and lifts a datapad that D.Va only now notices he is holding. Dr. Ziegler takes the time to hand both her and 76 two granola bars - peanut butter with no chocolate chips, much to D.Va's disappointment - as he says, “I’m guessing you’re aware that I sent out a recall signal to all former Overwatch agents, right?” Everyone nods, D.Va included even though she'd only learned about it literally minutes ago, and he goes on and says, “I got a ping from Torbjörn - ah, he’s a mechanic, I suppose you would call him - that confirmed he would arrive as soon as he was able. It’s been several days since then.”  
  
“Lemme guess,” McCree says, cigar in his mouth. It’s unlit, probably because of Dr. Ziegler’s narrow-eyed glare, one that the cowboy ignores quite grandly. “He sent out an SOS.”  
  
“Er, something like that,” Winston replies. D.Va can’t read his datapad from here as he peers at it more closely and says, “What he actually said was ‘if you lardbutts don’t get your arses over here in five hours, not having my turrets aren’t the only thing you’ll have to worry about.’”  
  
“That’s an SOS message,” McCree insists.  
  
“Agreed. Where are we headed, exactly?” Dr. Ziegler asks, nipping the argument in the bud.  
  
“Northwestern Russia,” Winston says.  
  
Dr. Ziegler frowns. “That is not very precise.”  
  
“Athena managed to pinpoint the location at which he was transmitting the signal. It’s not near any noticeable town, as far as we can discern.” Dr. Ziegler hums thoughtfully, and Winston adds, “I’ve already informed him it will take us some time to get there, but I have yet to get a response. Provided he does answer, we can track him as Lena gets us closer.”  
  
“Won’t take long,” Tracer pipes up. She sounds bright and peppy as always despite the early hour. “I’ll let you know when we get within range, Winston.”  
  
“Thank you, Lena.”  
  
“Should we expect any resistance?” 76 asks, shifting in his seat.  
  
“It’s likely,” Winston says. “From what I can pull from Athena’s conjecture, we’re liking facing up against Talon.”  
  
_Talon_. D.Va feels as though the name should have more significance in her mind than it does currently, and a sidelong glance at 76 reveals hunched shoulders and a compulsive twitch of his trigger finger. Hardly noticeable unless you were looking for it, and with a small huff she faces forward again as McCree sighs and says, “Sounds familiar.”  
  
Dr. Ziegler quirks an eyebrow. “Oh?” The question comes out like a command, which gets her a dry yet weary chuckle.  
  
“They attacked a train I was on once,” McCree says. “Tried to get their hands on somethin’ or other. Couldn’t tell ya for certain. Had to kill quite a few of ‘em, though.”  
  
“We don’t know what to expect,” Winston says, leaning back on his hind legs with a sigh. The datapad is set on a nearby chair; everyone eyes it but no one picks it up. “For now, we’ll go in assuming that Reaper or Widowmaker may be there, so be on your guard.”  
  
“Widowmaker?” 76 says, arching a brow.  
  
“ _Reaper_?” D.Va echoes, far more incredulously. McCree snorts; she realizes a moment later that it’s because she, too, has lifted an eyebrow, imitating 76 to a tee. She sticks her tongue out at him in retaliation, which earns her a wide smile.  
  
“Widowmaker is a highly skilled sniper,” Winston explains, and then he looks just tired as he goes on, “Reaper is some kind of - ghost. He wields two hand-held shotguns, he can teleport, and he has the ability to temporarily have complete immunity to all damage.”  
  
“His fashion sense leaves a lot to be desired,” McCree adds.  
  
“You’ve never seen him, Jesse.”  
  
“You’ve described him to me,” McCree points out, which Winston concedes with a nod, “And what kinda asshole wears all black with a skull mask?”  
  
“It was actually reminiscent of a barn owl,” Winston says.  
  
“Whatever,” McCree says, flapping his hand. “Point is he’s a wannabe Grim Reaper.”  
  
“A Grim Reaper who can teleport and have temporary immunity,” Winston corrects again.  
  
“ _Whatever_ , big guy.”  
  
“He sounds like someone who would shop at Hot Topic,” D.Va says with a grin. Predictably, none of the adults around her react to the name - well, Hot Topic had long gone out of business but remains the butt of many jokes on social media, so D.Va supposes she can’t really be all that surprised - and, disappointed, her grin drops and she sighs. “Ignore me.”  
  
“Young people,” McCree says, shaking his head in a manner that comes across as fond.  
  
“You are the crazy uncle that would show up drunk during the new year,” D.Va informs him without missing a beat.  
  
“Ouch.” McCree puts a hand over his heart as 76 chuckles, just once. “Spare your thoughts for an old man, darlin’.”  
  
“You’re thirty-seven, Jesse,” Dr. Ziegler says, mock-exasperated.  
  
“That makes me ancient,” McCree proclaims, sharing a conspiratorial glance with D.Va, and huh. Maybe she’ll be able to get along with him after all, and D.Va shoots him back a smile.  
  
“Focus, people,” Winston interrupts before Dr. Ziegler can launch a retort, and everyone falls obediently silent, save for Tracer’s absent humming in the cockpit. “This is an extraction mission, understood? Don’t engage unless fired upon. We don’t know where we’re going to be landing, but we want to draw the least amount of attention possible.”  
  
“Aye aye,” McCree says, with that lazy two-fingered salute.  
  
“Additionally, I will be staying behind in the Thunderbird, now that we have D.Va to provide some cover for all of you.” D.Va smiles when Winston looks over and meets her eyes. “Think you’re up for it?”  
  
“I play to win,” D.Va replies, winking at him. “We will be fine.”  
  
“Torbjörn will be safe and sound,” Dr. Ziegler agrees, though D.Va’s not sure who she is trying to reassure. “He has been through worse than this.”  
  
Winston grimaces. No one says anything for a bit.

“Have you all such little faith in my abilities?” D.Va asks archly, though she is one-hundred percent kidding.  
  
“Of course not,” Dr. Ziegler assures her anyway.  
  
“Been a while since we saw the old coot, is all,” McCree explains, tipping his hat down slightly. “Wouldn’t be surprised if we get there and he’s bashin’ omnic heads in fer no good reason.”  
  
“Jesse,” Winston says, a warning in his voice. “Talon is involved.”  
  
“Jus’ a thought, big guy. No need to take it personal.”  
  
“Torbjörn is biased, not stupid,” Dr. Ziegler reprimands. “Do not be so quick to judge.”  
  
McCree snorts. “Like he ain’t ever judged me for being former Deadlock. I know I’m kind of an asshole, dead to rights,” and McCree ignores 76 hiss of _language_ , and also how no one bothers to insist that no, he isn't an asshole, “But old Torby needs to realize times have changed. Ain’t that right, Lena?”  
  
“I mean, yeah, but it’s Torby, love. He’s a right nice bloke, just a bit, er, misguided!”  
  
“See?” McCree says like that proves his point, which it definitely did not.  
  
“ _Mein Gott_ ,” Dr. Ziegler says with no small degree of exasperation. “You are all hopeless.”  
  
The discussion soon dissolves into almost childlike bickering between the cowboy and the doctor. D.Va can only stare; these are the people who make up Overwatch?  
  
“Some things never change,” 76 says, quietly. D.Va looks between Dr. Ziegler and McCree, and 76 shakes his head and murmurs, “Him and Torbjörn never did get along that well.”  
  
_How do you know_ \- the words die in her throat when she catches McCree staring over at them, and she resolves to ask 76 later. Instead, she meets McCree's eyes and tilts her head, after which he looks away.  
  
“Might as well catch a bit of shuteye,” 76 says in the meantime, jerking his head briefly towards the rest of the empty seats. “Wake you up if anything happens.”

“I think I am too jittery to falls asleep,” D.Va murmurs back, bouncing her leg.

“Try anyway.”  
  
With a huff D.Va obeys, stretching out on the length of seats and, after a moment’s hesitation, resting her head on 76’s thigh, brushing her hair over left shoulder as she closes her eyes. 76 pats the top of her head before she can hear him shift to face forward again, and she must be more tired than she had thought because even the soft sounds of conversation don’t keep her from first dozing and then falling asleep.

* * *

“You two related?”  
  
76 doesn’t react, holding himself carefully still with the ease of long practice; this has the dual purpose of not waking Hana up and keeping himself from physically reacting. Jesse is watching him with a peculiar degree of intensity, but then, he has since he first laid eyes on him and Hana. It’s more dangerous now with Winston and Angela here - just his luck that all of the first responders to Winston’s recall are Overwatch veterans, really.  
  
“No,” he says, glancing downwards to see if Hana’s awake. She somehow looks less relaxed in sleep than she does when awake, and he still can’t really understand why his chest constricts at the sight. He’s a soldier, they’re going into battle (well, maybe not, but he’s learned not to hope), there’s a pretty good chance any one of them might die, and he doesn’t know why he would protect this girl until the day he died.  
  
“Thought so,” Jesse says. “Don’t look anythin’ alike.” 76 makes a sound of agreement and resists the strong urge to somehow shield Hana from those prying eyes.  
  
“How did you meet?” Angela asks, all soft furrowed brows and flawless skin and friendly half-smiles. She hasn’t changed a whit since he’s seen her last and it makes 76’s heart ache for better days.  
  
“Ran into her in Hanamura,” 76 says, finally giving into the desire and brushing his fingers through Hana’s hair. She doesn’t stir - a testament to her exhaustion, her breathing soft and even. “Explained that she could arrest me, then decided not to. Offered to let her join me and she agreed.”  
  
“Just like that?”  
  
Not at all, but. “Yes.”  
  
Angela lets out a thoughtful hum. “She’s very young. She told me she was only nineteen.”  
  
“The South Korean military recruited her into the MEKA program when she was eighteen,” Winston put in. “She’s been deployed several times in areas needing extra manpower against omnic violence, according to Korean intelligence. Whether there was actually omnic violence or just the one giant omnic is debatable, but the point still stands.”  
  
“Ain’t no delicate flower, that one,” Jesse murmurs, as if he hadn’t known all of that already. 76 knows the agents around him pretty intimately and he knows every one of them has scoured Hana’s file top to bottom at least three times.  
  
“We can hope so, at least,” Angela says softly. Her face is impassive but her eyes hold a glimmer of sadness, when 76 looks over at her, and that’s when he knows she’s seen through Hana’s fearless bravado that she called D.Va.  
  
The rest of the flight is relatively quiet as each agent falls back into their own musings, and 76 clenches the hand not resting on Hana’s head into a fist. He’d let these people down, once upon a time - let down the entire world, once upon a time. Now that he’s here, he can start atoning for his mistakes, and he lets out a sharp exhale as he lets his head fall back against the headrest. There’s not much give to it and he doesn’t close his eyes.  
  
Hana stirs slightly beneath him, and he runs his fingers through her hair once more.  
  
He would not fail again.

* * *

D.Va awakens to 76 shaking her shoulder and Tracer’s voice, with the pilot currently sounding less than happy as she barks, “Storm’s doing a number on the Thunderbird, Winston, gonna have to drop us at least a kilometer south of Torbjörn’s location.”  
  
“I see you still have quite a few creases to iron out,” an unfamiliar voice laughs into - her ear. She has a comm on her ear now, and when she reaches up to brush her fingers against it she finds the smooth, hard plastic somehow pressed against the whorl. A glance at 76 reveals he has the same thing, and at her questioning expression he nods; he’s the one who put it in, likely as she had been sleeping. “Not to worry, my babies can manage for a bit longer.”  
  
“He says as he’s pinned from almost all sides,” McCree says dryly. He’s lost the red poncho thing for a heavy black coat, not thick per se but compact, form-fitting, and heat-retaining, that much is clear. D.Va glances around and sees this is true for everyone, and that a coat of her own is folded up on her lap. “Any signs of - oh, sleepin’ beauty’s awake. D.Va, say hello to Torbjörn.”  
  
“ _Anyoung haseyo_ ,” D.Va says, shoving her arms into her coat and zipping it up.  
  
“ _Hej hej_ ,” Torbjörn answers, and then he grunts and there’s the sound of a hammer striking metal as Dr. Ziegler hands D.Va a pair of snowpants, similar to the coat. “She drives a mech, you said?”  
  
“Yes,” Winston says. “She was the star player in South Korea’s first MEKA unit.”  
  
“I am the defending champion in _Starcraft_ , as well,” D.Va says. She has no idea if her comm is on, since it’s unlike any one she’s seen before, but she doesn’t pay much mind as she slips into the pants and finally into the boots Dr. Ziegler offers her. Everyone else is dressed in almost identical attire, save for Winston.  
  
“Gonna be honest with you, girlie,” ah, so it _is_ on, “I have no idea what that is.”  
  
“Sounds about right,” D.Va says with a sniff.  
  
“Any chance you’d let me peek under the hood of your mech?”  
  
“ _Jugeodo andwae._ ”

“Language,” 76 drones, because he seriously has some kind of dad radar for this kind of thing.  
  
“I’m guessing that’s a no,” Torbjörn says with a laugh, and D.Va, with one last warning growl, lets it go when the man drops the subject. “You lot any closer yet?”  
  
“Getting there, love!” Tracer answers. She sounds jittery. D.Va would bet money it’s because she’s physically bouncing up and down in her seat. “A few more seconds, tops, then we’re dropping in!”  
  
“Good. Widow’s not here, but I think I saw Reaper skulking around - _djävla skit_.” A cacophony of sounds, one D.Va likens to when her mech blew up yesterday, and then Torbjörn is yelling, “ _Dra åt helvete_! I take it back, Reaper is here!”  
  
76 mutters a colorful array of swears under his breath as the comm goes static and D.Va, being a saint, doesn’t say anything about it as she refuses the hat Dr. Ziegler offers her. Her mech will keep her warm; honestly, the coat, pants and boots are just precautions.  
  
“Okay, loves!” Tracer zips in to stand amongst them, moving her goggles so that they cover her eyes. Her face is hidden behind a ski mask but D.Va can still tell when she smiles. “On your call, Winston!”  
  
“Never used to obey orders just like that,” 76 muses, quietly enough that only D.Va hears it, and she sends him a confused look. He turns to meet her eyes, at least she thinks he does through his visor, and says, “Stay close to me.”  
  
“Might not be able to,” she points out, which she is sure he knows, but she concedes with an “I’ll try” at his continued stare, to which he nods, looks forward again, and stands. She copies the motion and steps over to her mech, slipping herself inside and entering in the sequence needed to turn it on; a few moments later she waits in the humming machine, resting her chin on her hand and watching the chaos unfold around her.  
  
Winston barely fits in the cockpit, which is a hilarious picture all on its own, but then he’s shouting that the cargo doors are opening and, just like that, D.Va urges her mech forward and off and, after a maybe three meter drop, she’s on the ground. 76 lands heavily beside her, with McCree, Dr. Ziegler, and Tracer close behind, and then she straightens up and allows Winston to access her mech’s screen to provide her with a visual showing Torbjörn’s location.  
  
There’s a lot of snow ahead of her. “I can plow through this with my rocket boosters,” she says, assessing, gauging; this is similar to a battle she once fought against the giant omnic in the ocean back home. (She is not going to think about that right now.) “You should be able to follow behind me.”  
  
“You know where to go?” McCree says, his easy drawl soft in her ear.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Lead the way,” Dr. Ziegler says, and D.Va feels rather than sees the doctor activate her staff and wings. She’d read about the Caduceus weapon and armor line before, but it’s a whole new thing when the soft silver glow surrounds her in halo, when her mech’s guns report optimal performance levels just like that, when she knows the doctor can follow her anywhere in battle just by thinking about it.  
  
“Yeah, sure, just leave me to catch up,” McCree groans, and D.Va remembers that he doesn’t have a way to move quickly like the rest of them.  
  
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way!” Tracer answers, a shit-eating grin in her voice.  
  
D.Va merely shakes her head. “ _Buseuteo on_ ,” she says, pressing down on the button, and she knows 76 is sprinting close behind her, Dr. Ziegler is flying alongside her, Tracer is zipping along in her path and McCree is taking off after them as fast as he can.  
  
She breathes in. She watches her boosters burn out on her screen, shoves forward through the snow until they’ve recharged, goes again. The distance between her blue dot and Torbjörn’s red one grows steadily smaller.  
  
She breathes out.  
  
They can do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **german**  
>  _mein gott_ \- my god
> 
>  **korean**  
>  _anyoung haseyo_ \- hello  (casual with just a bit of formal)  
>  _jugeodo andwae_ \- over my dead body  
>  _buseuteo on_ \- boosters on
> 
>  **swedish**  
>  _hej hej_ \- hi/hello  
>  _djävla skit_ \- you shit  (from what I understand, you tack 'djävla' in front of swears to make them more intense. it doesn't necessarily mean 'you' in that sense, but in a literal translation it does)  
>  _dra åt helvete_ \- go to hell
> 
> bet you weren't expecting torbjörn!! or a longer chapter!! (or maybe you were. idk.) he's not my favorite character ever but sometimes someone on your team gets the support hero you wanted to play and you're playing defense and you're like 'well, time to build 'em up and break 'em down'. i can't be the only one who's ever been in that position, i'm sure of it.
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- torbjörn's close friends call him torby and he _hates_ it  
>  \- torbjörn is a master at stacking cards, despite his stature and profession. he's actually strangely good at stacking things in general. it's not unusual to go into his workshop and find metal and other things stacked tetris-style, in that it really doesn't look like it should be upright and solid and yet there it is, upright and solid  
> \- you cannot beat torbjörn at jenga, on that note  
> \- torbjörn and mccree don't get along mostly because mccree enjoys bothering torbjörn about omnics and how they can have souls. discussions usually involve mccree listing an absurd amount of examples showing that they do while torbjörn grows increasingly frustrated because he has only one argument to fall back upon and eventually throws him out of his workshop  
> \- torbjörn's hobbies include gardening, sudoku, ranting about the omnic rights movement, tinkering, making metal sculptures, making items that should not be weapons into weapons (see ana's sniper rifle), and stacking things  
> \- (he once weaponized a stack of datapads into something like large throwing stars. junkrat later made them throwing star bombs. genji later used them once and almost blew himself up)
> 
> see you lovelies tomorrow! c:
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


	18. OPERATION: EXTRACT TORBJÖRN (part 2 of 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana and friends duke it out. It works, mostly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we made it!
> 
> i'm sorry to say you won't be able to expect longer updates like this more often ;-; thanks for reading!

It’s barely a minute later when D.Va hears the telltale booms from - shotguns. _Must be Reaper_ , she thinks, just as 76 rumbles, “Sounds like Reaper is here after all.”  
  
“Winston, what is the general plan of attack?” Dr. Ziegler asks. There isn’t an answer, even when Dr. Ziegler curses and tries again. “ _Verdammt_. The weather must be worse than we thought.”  
  
“ _This_ is Overwatch?” D.Va wonders out loud, which earns her a resigned chuckle from McCree. Tracer lets out a full-bellied laugh while Dr. Ziegler just sighs, loudly, and 76, just at the edge of her peripherals, shrugs.  
  
A bit further and they finally break through the endless snow to find a small hut braving the elements, forlorn and alone in the storm raging around them. Near the hut’s door is a stout red turret, tracking and shooting down operatives in black as they pop out of cover - made of metal crates, it seems, so out of place in the otherwise untouched terrain so they must have been brought on purpose - to fire upon it before retreating again. Six shots ring out and six operatives drop, and then heads start turning towards them and McCree shouts, “Let’s go!”  
  
“Jesse, Winston said not to engage unless fired upon!” Dr. Ziegler calls, but the damage is already done.  
  
“We should have waited to engage until we were all in position!” 76 growls in agreement, and D.Va grins; there’s the old commander again, not the dutiful soldier, as he lifts his pulse rifle and fires.  
  
“Last I checked, you weren’t the bossman,” McCree drawls, and he accents this by reloading and shooting out another six, though two shots miss. D.Va activates her defense matrix and knocks away incoming bullets from the spared operatives with quick, practiced motions of her hands as Dr. Ziegler flits away to the cowboy’s location. “Besides, they were going to shoot us anyway; it was a preemptive strike.”  
  
Tracer is suddenly right next to one group of soldiers, and the smile on her face is almost leery as she shoots three of them in the temple before zipping away in retreat. The one Talon operative remaining swings his semi-auto around wildly, only to be gunned down moments later with a few precision shots from 76. The man looks and sounds exasperated as he puts a hand to his ear.  
  
“Stay close, Tracer!” 76 barks into the comm. “McCree, you need to cover D.Va’s left flank, I’ve got her right!”  
  
“Don’t order me around,” McCree snarls.  
  
“He has command experience, Jesse,” Dr. Ziegler snaps back, and her tone books absolutely no argument. “You said yourself he has the skills to back it up, and Winston can’t contact us right this moment. Now is not the time to argue!”  
  
McCree growls, wordless, but obediently falls back, settling himself close and just behind D.Va’s immediate left as she slowly urges her mech forward. Tracer continues to rain havoc behind the enemy lines, many of whom are now turning towards their little group and assessing them as the more dangerous threat, and it’s then that she sees the one who can only be Torbjörn: a short, stocky, stout man, just like his turret, with pale skin and pale hair and beard that’s so long he’s able to kind of braid it into place.  
  
“Target sighted,” someone says, and that’s definitely not any of her teammates because the voice is deep and raspy and extremely unfamiliar. It sends shivers down D.Va’s - Hana’s spine, and she bites her lip and forces her mind elsewhere until D.Va can finally focus and realize she has no idea where Reaper actually is.  
  
_He can teleport and he can have temporary immunity - and he’s close._  
  
“We need to move!” D.Va shouts, and, not waiting for confirmation, she activates her boosters and charges forward. She can tell 76 is keeping pace and Tracer dances around her, adjusting her zips through space and time so she can best defend D.Va’s advance, while McCree catches any stragglers. Dr. Ziegler flits between the four of them, occasionally shooting with her free hand while attached to one of her teammates with her staff, and soon D.Va is close enough to plant her mech near the entrance to the hut. Close enough to defend; far enough that Torbjörn’s turret has room to aim and shoot.  
  
“Sure took your sweet time in comin’, lass!” Torbjörn barks, wailing on his turret with a hammer. He only has one arm; the other is some kind of strange combination between cybernetics and straight-up mechanics. “Figured out where Reaper is yet?”  
  
“Working on it,” 76 says, throwing down a biotic field and pressing a hand to his visor. His tactical vision activates and he guns down all of the operatives McCree and Tracer haven’t gotten to yet; a glance up, however, reveals that reinforcements are en route. 76 launches rockets at the closest flying transport as Dr. Ziegler dodges and rolls past Torbjörn’s turret and into the hut, McCree grunting as he fans the hammer and reloads his revolver, Tracer giggling as she goes from place to place, chirping, “Here you go,” and then a whole bunch of Talon operatives screaming as they explode up and out and there’s so much blood.  
  
Hana watches it splatter on the frostbitten ground, blinking as she blindly fires towards where a bunch of operatives are taking cover. Her breathing is loud in her ears, suddenly, and her eyes are blown wide, and she jerks her head up to see one of the planes on fire and careening towards the earth. 76’s doing, and she can hear the shouts and yells and the stench of dead soldiers’ bladders emptying, and she coughs when smoke reaches past her filtration system and lodges in her throat, and -  
  
she doesn’t realize how uneven her breathing is until 76’s voice comes into her ear and says, “Are you all right?”  
  
No, she wants to say, like she never says. “Yes,” she manages, choking past the whimper prowling around her tongue.  
  
76 doesn’t say anything at first, instead letting out a burst of bullets that takes down a Talon operative running towards them with an automatic weapon of some kind. Then he says, “We’ll talk later.”  
  
“Yeah,” Hana manages, swallowing hard, and then her fingers tighten on the trigger and D.Va says determinedly, “How much longer?”  
  
“I’ve just barely managed to raise Winston,” Dr. Ziegler answers. Her voice is calm and soothing and D.Va latches onto it like a lifeline. “He says Athena can’t detect any more advances, though she’s sending her drones out to make sure.”  
  
“What exactly does Talon want so badly?” McCree huffs, ducking behind D.Va to take a short break from the action. She can’t see him but D.Va can hear him reload his revolver with ruthless efficiency.  
  
“Show you once this is over,” Torbjörn says, taking aim over his turret. He’s finished repairing it, it seems, and D.Va spares only a fleeting glance towards his weapon, which seems to fire - molten ore, perhaps. “It’s important, though, as far as I can tell.”  
  
“Yeah? You’ll forgive me if I doubt ya there, Torby.”  
  
Torbjörn’s laugh is dark and biting. “Still got yourself a death wish, eh, _dumhuvud_?”  
  
“Gentlemen, please,” Dr. Ziegler says sharply, looking none too pleased when both Torbjörn and McCree laugh, and then -  
  
“Die, die, die!”  
  
D.Va doesn’t even realize she’s slammed down the button for her defense matrix until she is suddenly aware of how fast her hands are moving to keep Reaper’s bullets - he’d appeared out of goddamn nowhere right in the middle of the battlefield - from hitting the people around her. It helps that McCree chucks a flashbang and Reaper stills midshot when it hits him, briefly disoriented, but she's aware she probably kept at least her and Dr. Ziegler from getting the worst of the hits. She’s always had good instincts, had to in her line of work, and she thanks her lucky stars for her foresight as she sags in relief, breathing out a mighty exhale that leaves her slightly shaky.  
  
She has no idea what she would do if - if 76 had been hurt. She likes McCree all right, and Dr. Ziegler, too, but 76 - she’s not sure what she would do, she’s really not, and she watches with blank detachment as 76 slaps down a biotic field and lunges across the field, straight towards Reaper’s tall, imposing form.  
  
“ _Mein Gott_ ,” Dr. Ziegler mutters; “He killed his own men, too.”  
  
That snaps D.Va back into reality, and she chances a few glances around to see Tracer straightening up some distance away, frowning visibly under her ski mask; she’d gotten behind cover during Reaper’s massacre, thank goodness, but now all of her targets were eliminated for her, and D.Va can see her confusion change into recognition and then sheer fury as her eyes settle on Reaper, who is currently tossing aside his shotguns for a new pair, an eerie, deep-throated laugh shaking his entire limber frame.  
  
“Haven’t changed a bit,” Reaper growls, attempting to shoot 76 point-blank in the face. D.Va grits her teeth when 76 dodges easily as if expecting it, swinging up the butt of his rifle in a move that would knock out any other person’s teeth; instead Reaper bobs around it, hazy black smoke slipping around the man like a phantom. “Didn’t think this one through, did you?”  
  
“Shut the fuck up,” 76 growls, going for a leg sweep only to have his foot pass through Reaper’s clothes like there’s nothing there. _Temporary immunity_ , D.Va remembers, and then she snaps herself out of her trance and tries to target Reaper with her fusion cannons. Tracer’s already darted in and engaged the ghost for just a moment, a quick flyby so she doesn’t run the risk of shooting 76 instead, but Reaper ignores her entirely as he takes the shots from her little pistols, focusing on 76 in front of him.  
  
D.Va has never actually dueled anyone with her gun before. Watching Reaper and 76 go at it is like watching a dance, if a dance involved whacking each other really hard whenever the other left an opening, if a dance involved never touching each other and in fact doing everything in their power not to, if any dance could be as graceful as this - but as it stands, Torbjörn is cursing as he dismantles his turret before it shoots both of them up, Dr. Ziegler has attached a healing strand from her staff to 76, Tracer is zipping in and out to act as a distraction, and McCree has been oddly silent and still. His revolver is tucked into its holster but his hand is over it and his fingers are in constant motion, like a wave from his pinky to his index.  
  
D.Va keeps herself in front of Dr. Ziegler, giving up on trying to shoot Reaper. There’s too much motion, too much stimuli, too much happening for her to focus and aim, and even the thought of accidentally shooting 76 makes her cringe - so she keeps her defense matrix ready and worries her lower lip between her teeth, unsure of what to do, unsure of what not to do.  
  
And then 76 slips on a patch of ice.  
  
Hana sees it in slow motion - his foot smashing down as he sidesteps a gun whip, the heel sliding out from underneath him, his arms compulsively cradling his rifle to his chest as he tucks his head in (not proper falling technique but the best he can do in his situation), Reaper catching the moving foot beneath him and raising his guns up high, his rasping laugh coming out full and gloating -  
  
“ _It’s high noon -_ ”  
  
and Hana turns her head to see the quickest draw of a gun she’s ever seen in her life, McCree’s eyes narrowed and steady as his mechanical arm stabilizes his firing arm and he shoots a single shot.  
  
Reaper howls. It’s ghastly and eerie and it makes Hana wish she had earplugs, but then the silence that follows is profound. The ghostly figure vanishes from sight in a swirl of black smoke and whirling snow, leaving 76 lying on the ground, staring up, as Dr. Ziegler continues her healing stream, the other hand over her mouth.  
  
Hana doesn’t even think as she jumps out of her mech and darts over to where 76 is just starting to sit up, one hand cradling his chin. She’s vaguely aware of McCree dropping to one knee from where he stood, teeth gritted as he pulled his hat down his face ( _how was that still on his head?_ ), but almost all of her focus is on the man in front of her as he stands up with a grunt.  
  
“I’m fine,” he says to her, though he winces as soon as he says this. Dr. Ziegler’s staff may heal minor wounds, but Hana’s willing to bet Reaper got him in the leg somewhere because his first step is a limp. “You need to get back into your mech. It’s not safe.”  
  
“Says the man who cannot walk without help,” Hana bites back, one of her hands under his elbow, the other on his shoulder. He leans on her heavily as they slowly make their way to the hut and she blinks rapidly when her vision blurs. “I will be fine. We need to get you inside.”  
  
“Hana - ”  
  
“Do not ‘Hana’ me until you do not run the risk of hypothermia,” Hana snaps, feeling her ears slowly go numb in the blistering winter wind. She should’ve taken the hat Dr. Ziegler had proffered her back in the Thunderbird.  
  
76 doesn’t offer anything to that, merely accepting her help and grunting in pain every now and then. Torbjörn’s dismantled his turret so everyone can file inside the hut, and once Hana and 76 stagger in, he shuts the door behind them; once he has, Dr. Ziegler deactivates her medical staff to rush over, taking 76 from Hana’s arm and easing him onto a pallet on the ground - she must have prepared that during the time Hana had been helping 76 walks, she guesses. McCree, meanwhile, is hunched over by Dr. Ziegler's side while holding up his lighter to act as a light source, and Tracer, her chronal accelerator glowing, zips around. Hana would guess she is checking for supplies, though she’s not sure what the woman hopes to find in a small little hut in the middle of nowhere.  
  
From the outside, the hut looked rickety and unstable; on the inside, it’s surprisingly well-insulated, though that’s not to say it isn’t cold. Rather, the worn wooden walls are thick and solid despite the worn-down look outside and the roof seems to be easily holding up the weight from snow, though that may be aided by a pillar in the middle of the single room. There’s a few unlit lanterns scattered about and thermal supplies in the corner, evidently dug up by Tracer, and all in all Hana could see how an agent could squat here for a couple of weeks if they had the food for it. They would only have to melt snow outside to get water.  
  
“I recognize this,” McCree says dully after a few seconds of silence, during which Dr. Ziegler and 76 confer in low voices as she examines him. “Used to be a Blackwatch safehouse. Went outta commission the minute Jack got blown up.”  
  
“You stayed here once?” Hana asks, and then frowns and glances over at 76 worriedly when he lets out a loud cough, but looks back over and says, “What is Blackwatch?”  
  
McCree eyes her for a long moment. The flame from his lighter casts his face in a strange glow, rending soft curves into long shadows and hard edges. “You’re one of us, so I s’pose you deserve t’know,” he says at last. “Blackwatch was Overwatch’s covert ops division. Did whatever Overwatch couldn’t do legally illegally, that’s the general idea.”  
  
Hana turned this over in her mind. Once, twice.  
  
“It was in my history textbook,” she says slowly, recalling the details foggily. “But there was so little information on it that my professor only had a few test questions concerning it.”  
  
“The way it should be,” McCree says with a sigh. Then he looks around as if remembering something. “Lena, you find it yet?”  
  
“Still looking,” Tracer says, and Hana frowns in slight confusion.  
  
“Should’ve just said you were looking for it,” Torbjörn says with an exaggerated sigh, toddling over to a tall shelf in the corner. He budges it a few inches away from the wall without struggle and there’s a thump as if he’s hitting something. Hana yelps when the floor shifts underneath where she’s standing, jumping away until she’s on solid ground and she can see the wood boards slide to reveal a staircase leading down. “S’what Talon was after,” Torbjörn says. He flaps a hand towards the dark depths. “Haven’t taken a good look meself, but whatever's down there, there’s somethin’ of value.”  
  
“Much obliged,” McCree says. He goes as if to stand up but ends up wincing instead.  
  
“Don’t move,” Dr. Ziegler tells him, flinty. “You know how Deadeye affects you. In fact, do us all a favor and raise Winston on comm. Athena has sent out more drones, so it should be possible by now.”  
  
McCree lets out a prolonged sigh and puts his hand to the side of his head. After a moment, static crackles in Hana’s ear and Winston’s voice says, “Can you all hear me?” Various murmurs of assent fill the room. “Good. Talon’s backed off for now, but I don’t imagine we have a lot of time. Secure Torbjörn and get out.”  
  
“What am I, chopped liver?” Torbjörn grumbles before adding, “There’s somethin’ here, Winston. We gotta retrieve it before we can go.”  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“Looks like some kind of data drive,” Tracer says, and Hana suddenly realizes the woman is nowhere to be seen - she’s probably down the stairs, looking around the tiny room. “It’s a standard Blackwatch bunker for interrogation, looks like, all the systems down and such of course. But there’s a little thingy here plugged into the mainframe.”  
  
“I’ll be at your location in thirty seconds,” Winston says. “Is everyone able to move?”  
  
“Got a splittin’ migraine but should be fine,” McCree grunts.  
  
“76 has several fractures in his left femur,” Dr. Ziegler says, sitting back on her haunches. “He will be able to walk with support, though I will have to take a look at him when we return to Gibraltar. Not to mention,” she adds when 76 sits up, “We must discuss how your recklessness could have cost us the mission, 76. Yours as well, McCree.”  
  
“I know,” 76 rumbles. There’s no doubt that he does, as Tracer flits back up the stairs with a small, black, rectangular thing in her hand, something she drops into the plastic bag she pulls from her waist. “Reaper - we’ve crossed paths. Before.”  
  
Dr. Ziegler tuts at that as she sits back and rises to her feet. The motion is elegant and smooth and fluid, her wings flaring out with a soft orange glow as she stares down at him. “That does not excuse anything. And you, D.Va.” Hana flinches when the woman’s eyes turn on her. “I know you meant well when you charged forward, but you should have at least waited for confirmation before doing so.”  
  
“Mercy,” 76 says, his voice a warning growl. Mercy? Hana wonders but doesn’t ask.  
  
“Lay off, doc,” McCree rasps in solidarity. “Been a bit of a weird day for all of us.”  
  
Hana releases a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as Dr. Ziegler’s attention turns away from her. She makes a mental note to thank both 76 and McCree for their intervention later: Dr. Ziegler is scary.  
  
“Do not tell me to ‘lay off’, Jesse McCree,” Dr. Ziegler snaps, bristling. “My top priority is the wellbeing of my patients, and you know all too well you should not be using Deadeye so flippantly.”  
  
McCree mumbles something under his breath, wordless, instead of engaging in the argument, as Hana tucks herself under 76’s arm and hoists him to his feet. Torbjörn’s already opened the door to greet the Thunderbird as it drops down, not quite touching the ground and weaving unsteadily in the storm, and Tracer swings McCree’s arm around her shoulders and pushes him forward, leaving Dr. Ziegler to take up the rear.  
  
Hana exhales sharply as she hops into the Thunderbird before helping 76 pull himself in. He’s safe. He’s injured, but he’s fine, and after she doubles back for her mech and she's powered it down, she looks around as the cargo doors close to see Torbjörn, McCree and Dr. Ziegler no worse for wear, visibly at least. Tracer has a cut on her sleeve that’s bleeding freely, though she pays it no heed as she trots to Winston and passes the data drive to him, murmuring something too quietly for Hana to pick up. The whole thing hadn’t even lasted half an hour. Somehow this makes everything worse.  
  
Hana drops into the seat next to 76 and curls up next to him without saying a word, using his uninjured thigh as a pillow, facing away from the cabin at large so her face couldn’t be seen. Closing her eyes is out of question, not with the battle so fresh in her mind, so she stares dully at the back of the black plastic chair and tries to cast her mind elsewhere; usually after a battle she would drown herself in a more mellow video game - _Journey_ has a special place in her heart, despite its age - but for now she just holds back tears and tries not to think of the number of people she killed today.  
  
76’s hand is a soft and heavy weight on her shoulders, and it helps, a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **german**  
>  _verdammt_ \- damn it  
>  _mein gott_ \- my god
> 
>  **swedish**  
>  _dumhuvud_ \- dumbass
> 
>  _yes_ i am aware defense matrix doesn't do shit to death blossom but work with me here **EDIT** : i have been informed defense matrix does in fact work on death blossom so HA
> 
> i don't mean to make her suffer, but. hana bby. you've been through a lot before this, and there are plenty of mental scars that haven't healed quite right.
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- mercy runs on sheer spite for fighting and exasperation for her patients when in battle. she'll be in the middle of stitching someone up/using her staff on someone and just be ranting like 'war is SO STUPID. i can't believe how stupid it is. i can't believe how stupid you all are for participating in it. i can't believe it' and everyone's like 'you have a gun too' and she's tying off the stitches and yelling 'I KNOW IT'S THE DUMBEST THING EVER I HATE IT'  
> \- torbjörn's knowledge of video games extend to _Plants vs. Zombies_ and that's about it. he is hella good at it, though  
>  \- tracer could be bleeding from five different places and not realize it until someone points it out to her, after which she screams bloody murder (heh) and runs to mercy  
> \- hana is so good at shutting down memories and fears and what have you that, at first (and second, and third) glance, people legitimately think violence doesn't bother her. she knows it does, but that's what d.va is for  
> \- reaper often kills his fellow talon operatives because all the extra souls are super helpful, at least for him. accordingly, talon does not tell its agents reaper is coming along on a mission until it's too late  
> \- mccree first used deadeye when he was but a wee lad in the deadlock gang. since then he has used it sparingly, as each use makes him more and more numb to death and combat, something he does not want  
> \- ( **EDIT** : someone requested a more in-depth explanation to this, which will be touched upon later but i figure it can't hurt to talk about it now. so. deadeye. there's a fic called [hang the fool](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7127210/chapters/16186526) that has a line that goes something like _pull the trigger with your soul_ (see chapter 6 of said fic). the author of that fic headcanons that shooting deadeye takes a bit of mccree's soul out of him, just a little piece of it, every time he uses it. in a universe where reaper can literally consume people's souls, this doesn't seem too far-fetched for me, thus the same concept here: each use requires a slight loss of humanity. such uncanny aim can't come without a price, after all.)  
>  \- back when 76 and reaper were jack and gabriel, they often sparred for practice. this is why neither of them can ever get the upper hand when pitted against each other
> 
> see you all tomorrow! c:


	19. home is where the heart is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana talks to some people. They tell her some interesting things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today i did some yard work in the garden! i had to pull weeds. it was sunny and a little bit awful.

By the time they get back to base, it’s late afternoon, around seventeen hours. Hana disembarks the Thunderbird with 76 using her as support and then it’s a long hike to the medbay, during which neither of them talk much and McCree, Torbjörn, and Dr. Ziegler take turns reassuring a still-bleeding, slightly-hysterical Tracer that she’s not going to die. Winston stays behind a bit to finish up with the plane and possibly move Hana’s mech, she’s not sure, and then she’s shoved into a chair at the medbay as Dr. Ziegler herds 76 into an examination room.  
  
She stares down at her feet as she kicks them back and forth, watching them appear and disappear from her vision, hands stabilizing her as they hold the edges of her chair as she focuses on making her breathing as slow and even as possible. Next to her, McCree’s kicked back with his hat tipped over his eyes, and across from her, Tracer is bouncing uncontrollably and Torbjörn is examining his mechanical arm.  
  
“Y’know, I have to ask, Torbjörn,” McCree says after a few minutes of silence. “What were ya doing in Russia, anyway?”  
  
Torbjörn looks up from his arm, lowers it to his side, and tilts his head a bit. “Taking an interest in my affairs, Jesse? I’m surprised.”  
  
“Call it paranoia or whatever the hell you want,” McCree answers. “I just wanna know.”  
  
Torbjörn grunts and resumes examining his arm again. “I’m sure it’ll come up during the debrief.”  
  
“Still a bitter old man, I see.”  
  
“And you’re still an arrogant _dumfan_ , so I guess nothing’s changed,” Torbjörn replies, looking nonplussed but definitely not acting nonplussed.  
  
Hana bites her lip as the room goes quiet again. She’s having a hard time believing Overwatch used to be full of people like this: she thought they were heroes, not people with petty arguments and bloody clothes and terrible headaches. And that’s the rub, she supposes - they’re people. Heroes, yes, but people underneath, and she knows that. She would know, after all; South Korea celebrates her as a hero, but she doesn’t feel like one most of the time.  
  
“You were all part of the original Overwatch, yes?” she asks before she can think about it, and it takes all of her willpower not to flinch when three pairs of eyes settle on hers. She doesn’t wait for a response before rushing on, “Was this what it was like?”  
  
“Like what?” Torbjörn says.  
  
“Um.” Hana thinks about it, briefly runs through numerous words she could use, and finally decides on a dubious “Chaotic?”  
  
McCree lets out a hum; Torbjörn just laughs outright. It’s Tracer who gives her a wobbly grin and says, “Well, I was only in Overwatch for a short bit before they put me in Blackwatch, but from what I can remember - it depends on the mission, is all. ”  
  
“Never was in Overwatch myself, either,” McCree agrees, tilting his head forward. “Torbjörn here prob’ly knows best.”  
  
“Aye, suppose I do.” Torbjörn nods thoughtfully. “Back when Commander Morrison was in charge, this place ran like a well-oiled machine. Helps that we had more members to balance our skills, too.”  
  
There’s a brief bout of silence after mentioning the late commander. “Did you all get along?” Hana asks after waiting a proper amount to speak, remembering McCree talking smack about Torbjörn in the Thunderbird, remembering how 76’s leadership skills were undermined, remembering how all four of them save Dr. Ziegler took risks that should have probably been avoided.  
  
“We all have our rough patches,” Tracer says, smiling still. “That doesn’t mean we aren’t friendly, yeah?”  
  
“I mean, you saw what we were like in the plane,” McCree says. “Banterin’ like a buncha idiots. I know it don’t seem like me n’ Torby here are buddies, but in the heat of things, I’d watch his back.”  
  
“‘Seem’ being the operative word - but I’d watch his back, too,” Torbjörn confirms, before sighing and saying, “’Course, in my experience, Jesse needs someone watchin’ him every second of his life.”  
  
“Yeah, probably,” McCree agrees instead of snapping back, which is entirely out of character if Torbjörn’s expression is anything to go by. Hana’s willing to be it’s because of his migraine, and it’s a wonder he’s talking at all, really. “Lena’s job.”  
  
“You were keeping an eye on me,” Tracer corrects, “Because I was ‘too goddamn unpredictable with no sense of self-preservation’.” She laughs. “I miss old Reyes every now and then.”  
  
_Gabriel Reyes_. Hana recalls the name from her history textbook. “Did he not die when an Overwatch base blew up prior to its disbandment?”  
  
“Yeah, he did,” Tracer says, smile dropping with a sigh. “Such a hardass. Things were rough before that happened.”  
  
“Amen to that,” McCree says with a laugh, one that quickly turns into a grimace because, well, migraine. “Cranky old coot. Always meant well, though. Wonder what he’d be doing now if he hadn’t kicked the bucket.”  
  
“Probably tryin’ to get into Morrison’s pants,” Torbjörn says with a snort.  
  
Tracer starts laughing, long and loud, and McCree winces and covers his ears even as he’s grinning, trying not to laugh himself. Hana only stares at Torbjörn’s smug smile and, suddenly, a ton of her history teacher’s curriculum makes a lot of sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **swedish**  
>  _dumfan_ \- dumbfuck
> 
> do i ship reaper76?
> 
> ... i mean. kind of? i don't think it's plausible any time after overwatch's disbandment, but before that, when reyes was commander and morrison was his right-hand man and everything was sunshine and rainbows and puppies? sign me the _fuck_ up.
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- torbjörn's sass is second to only reinhardt  
> \- mccree deals with migraines like an idiot, which means he talks and goes into brightly lit rooms and walks around and god, just get the man to lie down before he passes out from the pain (or maybe that's the plan??)  
> \- tracer's fine with blood right up until it's her own. this was why she made such a great agent for blackwatch, given that she could dart in and get a kill without flinching even if she gets covered in the stuff  
> \- mercy's hobbies include screaming into pillows about her patients' stupidity, pretending she's calm and perfect and elegant when inside she is a tornado of rage, and pushing the pacifist agenda on every world leader who will listen which they have to because she's a screaming tornado of rage  
> \- 76, back when he was jack morrison, was known for acquiring injuries and walking around with them for weeks before finally going to mercy and admitting they were kind of a problem. (see exhibit A: jack walking around with a sprained wrist and only realizing how problematic it was when he lifted up a gun and dropped it instead)  
> \- reaper, back when he was gabriel reyes, was totally that gruff, crude blackwatch manager who loved his agents to itty-bitty pieces and protected them like a proud parent even though he would complain about them endlessly  
> \- hana knows the most first aid out of everyone in overwatch who aren't support heroes


	20. my dad thinks salt is a spice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana and 76 talk. There's also a reason 76 isn't allowed in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know those days where you hang out with a friend but it's like your chill friend so you both get on your computers and do completely separate things like read fic or whatever and then when you say goodbye you feel great because you were with a friend and you hung out even though you didn't actually do anything together and you make plans to do it again sometime?
> 
> that's the kind of day i had today c: i'm feeling good and i hope you are too!

76 exits the medbay while Torbjörn and Tracer are still snickering at the Swede's joke, McCree is grinning widely under the darkness of his hat, and Hana is staring into the wall, reviewing everything her teacher had talked about and noting every single instance where he had mentioned again and again how close Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes had once been. _Everything makes sense now_ , she thinks with a detached sense of wonderment, only snapping out of it when 76 sat heavily beside her, chair creaking ominously under his weight.  
  
“Lena,” Dr. Ziegler calls, not even bothering to come out of her examining room. Tracer stands up and zips in, the door shutting behind her due to the change in air pressure or something, Hana’s not sure, but then it opens again and Dr. Ziegler pokes her head out. “Torbjörn, you’re free to go if you wish; I believe your room is still open. McCree - ” and she tosses a small pill bottle that McCree catches, in an easy, casual way that suggests honed instincts rather than actually looking up - “No more than four per day, understood?”  
  
“Got it, doc,” McCree says, as Torbjörn grunts and jumps off of his chair. He stands up with a grunt and says, “After you, shorty.”  
  
“You’d like me to break your knees?” Torbjörn retorts, and then the door to the medbay slides open and shut behind them and, just like that, their dialogue is cut off and it’s silent. It takes a while for Hana to look away from the door and drag her gaze over to 76; everything feels heavy and glazed, and even the comforting glow of 76’s red visor does nothing for her nerves.  
  
“How're you holding up?”  
  
She draws in a breath and lets it out. Honesty, dishonesty; she weighs the pros and cons on an imaginary scale.  
  
“Not so good,” she answers at last.  
  
76 grunts in agreement. He looks worn out.  
  
“We missed lunch,” he says after a moment.  
  
_Blood freezing on the ice, gas and smoke and stench in the air, hands clenching the triggers of her fusion cannons._ “I am not hungry.”  
  
“Gotta eat something. You’re still growing.”  
  
“Women generally stop growing taller two years after their period begins,” Hana corrects.  
  
“Brain doesn’t stop developing until your late twenties,” 76 counters. He makes a motion to get to his feet, and Hana bolts upright to support him when he puts weight on his left leg and winces. “’Sides, everyone else is probably hungry. Think we can whip something up?”  
  
“I know I can, but I do not know about you,” Hana says, and she’s too short to provide support for 76 if he put his arm around her, so instead she kind of cups his elbow and pushes upward as he leans down against her. “Why did you not get crutches?”  
  
“Can still walk on my own, just easier this way,” 76 says, which is a deflection if she’s ever heard one and also a lie because of how much weight he'd putting on her right now. It’s a long way to the mess hall, and also Hana had just left without Dr. Ziegler looking at her, but whatever. “Also, I can cook.”  
  
She looks at him dubiously. “When we were on the run,” she says, “You made soup and put a lot of salt in it because you said, and I quote, ‘salt is a spice’.”  
  
“It is,” 76 says. If it had been anyone but him, it would’ve come out petulant; as it is, it sounds mostly annoyed.  
  
“Salt is not a spice.”  
  
“Anything is possible if you believe.”  
  
“It would not have been difficult to procure black pepper.”  
  
“Youth these days,” 76 mock-grovels, “So particular.”  
  
“Unlike you, I appreciate good food.”  
  
“Harsh.”  
  
“You put Sriracha sauce on your ramen!”  
  
“It’s good,” he says defensively.  
  
They’re still squabbling about ramen and what one puts on it by the time they make it to the kitchen, after which Hana sends 76 on a hunt for chicken while she grabs a pot and checks the fridge. She’s in luck, as someone had had the foresight to go grocery shopping; with a smile she nabs cabbage, onions, scallions, a few sweet potatoes (no doubt Dr. Ziegler had been responsible for this), though she’s unable to find all of what she needs, so she settles on tofu instead of rice cake and decides soy sauce will have to do instead of _gochujang_ sauce.  
  
“I need spicy things,” she tells 76 when he returns, dropping the sweet potatoes into the pot of boiling water, bearing - frozen chicken breasts. She sighs inwardly. Better than nothing.  
  
“Salt.” She glares and 76 laughs. “There’s pepper in the cupboard, I think.”  
  
She hadn't spotted any chili peppers in the fridge, oddly enough, so that would have to do. “What time is it?”  
  
He must have a clock built into his visor because there’s not even a second’s worth of hesitation before he says, “Seventeen forty.”  
  
“Defrost the chicken in the microwave, please.” She has time. Luckily, _dak galbi_ doesn’t require much prep.  
  
76 snorts. “Only because you asked nicely.”  
  
She sticks her tongue out at him as she washes the cabbage, ruthlessly tearing it apart and washing it again. 76 leans against the microwave and keeps an eye on the chicken as she dices the cabbage, onions, and scallions, shoving everything into a bowl when it’s done, wondering briefly how she knows this recipe so well she doesn’t even need to look it up.  
  
_(Home alone again; a wide, empty house that echoes when she calls. Premade dinners that she ignores as she flips open a cookbook from her mother, grocery lists she leaves on the table to come home and find everything she asked for in place. At least she can blame the tears on the onions - )_  
  
The sweet potatoes are slightly undercooked when she cuts one open, unfortunately, so she puts it back and waits a bit longer as 76 removes the chicken and pokes it a bit before nodding at her; it’s defrosted. She hands him a knife and together they cut the meat up into small, manageable pieces, and she wavers briefly before tossing the chicken into another bowl and dousing it with soy sauce and pepper. She has no idea how good that will taste, but, well, she doesn’t have all the supplies she needs right now, so she’ll just work with what she has. Maybe there's oyster sauce somewhere?  
  
“You’re going to stir-fry this?” 76 asks after the sweet potatoes are finally done. It’s a few minutes after eighteen hours, she’s pretty sure, as she carves up the potatoes and throws it in the bowl with the rest of the vegetables.  
  
Instead of answering, she says, “Is there a large pan somewhere?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got the whole 'salt is a spice' from ArcaneAdagio's [Overwatch Emergency Communication Channel (I Swear, It's Emergency Only)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7324573) c: if you haven't read that you are missing out big time!!
> 
> also hana can cook. that's a thing?? _gochujang_ sauce is like a chili pepper paste, and _dak galbi_ is basically spicy chicken stir-fry. although please keep in mind that i am not an expert on these things!! i was born in america and i live in america and i have never been to south korea so i am not a good source of information when it comes to that particular country :c
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- jack/76 puts salt on everything except sweet things  
> \- he once put salt in tea as a joke on reyes but then thought it didn't actually taste too bad but _then_ realized he was basically drinking salt water and that's no good so he doesn't do that anymore  
>  \- (or DOES HE???)  
> \- hana spent many a day cooking meals for herself :c  
> \- mercy definitely is the kind of person who picks up a bunch of stuff, brushes past other stuff, but then doubles back because 'what if we need this just in case' and usually no one is there to stop her so the fridge is almost always fit to bursting  
> \- winston is really good at making desserts that involve bananas and peanut butter. he doesn't like using the oven because it's a little bit difficult to get stuff in and out, so he generally makes bars and things that don't have to be baked at all


	21. my dad believes in me. does yours believe in you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana cooks. There's some talking involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case it wasn't evident, i have a very good parent-kid relationship with my dad c: so a lot of scenes in this fic are kind of based on my own experiences in some ways! obviously i am not a military kid who can drive a mech and i've never shot someone so that's a bit different, but, you know - good parenting comes in many forms!
> 
> i hope you all have good relationships with your parents, and if you don't, i am sorry and i hope you have found your support and strength in different people and ways <3

“I found Sriracha sauce.”  
  
“I am _not_ putting that in,” Hana hisses as she expertly jerks the pan back and up, the food inside flipping neatly in the air and sticking the landing. She’s been making the _dak galbi_ in small batches so she doesn’t have to stress about a huge pan and so far it’s going pretty well. “You have no respect for food, 76.”  
  
“Suit yourself,” 76 says, taking one of the plates she’s already prepared. Hana narrows her eyes at him as he upends the bottle, and she proceeds to make gagging sounds as he spreads the sauce liberally on his dish. “No sense of adventure.”  
  
“I am already working with strange ingredients. Do not try my patience.”  
  
76 reaches up and removes his visor with one hand, a surprisingly quick process despite the intricacies of the thing, leaning back against the counter as he grabs a fork and stabs into the stir-fry with it. His back is to the door, allowing him a buffer in case someone else were to walk in, and Hana rolls her eyes as he says, “I’m sure it’s tasty no matter how you swing it, Hana.”  
  
Hana harrumphs, but she watches 76’s face carefully as he takes a surprisingly delicate bite. The man has two long scars that slip diagonally down his face, one past his left eyebrow that goes down to his right cheek, the other cutting across his lips, and she watches those lines flex and move as he chews, eyes half-lidded and slow-blinking. He's found time to shave, at least, and it makes him look younger despite the gray-white of his hair.  
  
“Delicious,” he says after swallowing. “Should’ve made you cook more in the last month.”  
  
“If you had gotten me the ingredients and equipment, I would have been glad to,” Hana assures him, smiling as a tight coil in her chest loosens, relief slipping coolly into her bloodstream. “I cooked a lot when I was in Korea.”  
  
“For fun?”  
  
“For myself to eat,” she says with a laugh. “Why else?”  
  
76 shrugs. “Seems odd someone like you would cook for yourself, I guess.”  
  
Hana’s smile drops and she turns away, busying herself with the stir-fry again. She’s sure 76 has noticed he’s overstepped a line he hadn’t known had been there, but for now she merely bites her lip and doesn’t think about how this dish had been her comfort food, especially after she had been drafted into the military.  
  
“If you don’t mind me asking,” 76 says after a moment, “Where’d you learn?”  
  
He’s toeing the line now, poking and prodding to see what was acceptable and what wasn’t. Hana is slightly amused despite herself, even as she moves the stir-fry around with her spatula.  
  
“I taught myself,” she tells him, focusing intently on the sizzling food. She should probably have used more oil, and with a mental shrug she pours a bit more soy sauce into the pan. “Told myself that if I was going have a useful skill, it should be the ability to make tasty things.”  
  
“You can pilot a state-of-the-art mech.”  
  
“A skill that is only useful in times of war.” Hana dumps the latest batch on a plate and covers it with another plate, scooting it aside. Currently there are three other servings set out; she still needs two more. “My only other skill is my ability to play _Starcraft_ , which is useless except in that very specific context. If I had not encountered video games and there had not been not a giant omnic attacking South Korea, I would _be_ useless.”  
  
“Video games help people develop hand-eye coordination,” 76 says mildly, taking another bite of his food.  
  
“How useful,” Hana says, dry, cold, like frozen nitrogen. “You know I cannot shoot for shit regardless.”  
  
“Language.” 76 sets his plate down, half-eaten, and she hears him takes a few steps towards her before his hand settles on her shoulder. “Practice makes perfect.”  
  
“To what end?” Hana snaps, slamming the pan down a little too roughly on the stove. She takes a moment to even out her breathing before saying a little more calmly, “More fighting? I fought to save my people in Korea - my home - and still our MEKA squad was sent out on the military’s whim. I have killed and will continue to kill. I have no other skills to my name.”  
  
She expects him to laugh, to make light of her situation, for she is far more fortunate than others and here she spits in its face - but instead 76 lets out a thoughtful hum, his hand squeezing her shoulder before disappearing.  
  
“You’re still young,” he says, picking up his plate and fork again. She listens to him dig in as she flips the stir-fry in front of her. “Don’t assume your path’s been chosen for you already. A lot can change in a short period of time.”  
  
“After whatever it is Overwatch wants to do, I will have nowhere to go,” Hana says bitterly.  
  
“You’ll always have a home with me.”  
  
The way he says this indicates he’d said it with absolute certainty, and when Hana jerks her head around to look at him, his expression looks grave and focused - blue eyes intent on hers as he sets his fork down. She turns his words over and over again in her head as she slowly turns back to the pan, and she can’t get her throat to open up after it had constricted so tightly.  
  
Whatever she might have said next is interrupted when Torbjörn sticks his head in and says, “Is that food, lass?”  
  
76 has fluidly turned-away-clicked-his-visor-back-on-clutched-his-plate-close-to-his-chest in mere heartbeats as Hana shakes herself out of it and smiles, a little forced, nodding to the mechanic. “It is a traditional Korean dish,” she explains, and then winces, “With a few twists, as I was missing a few ingredients. Would you like to try?”  
  
“There is no universe where he would say no,” Tracer says, blinking into the kitchen and carefully picking up one plate in each hand. Hana still needs to finish up another. “I’ll take these out for you, yeah?”  
  
“There are more coming.”  
  
“You’re a doll, love - I’ll set these ones out and come back, then. See ya in a jiffy!” Torbjörn lets out a startled sound when Tracer zips by him and his somewhat-precariously balanced plate, but only grumbles as he toddles out of the kitchen, and then Hana is alone with 76 again and she’s dumping the contents of her pan onto another plate.  
  
Neither of them say anything for a while, especially with Tracer zipping in and out to grab plates and presumably set them out on a table outside. Hana busies herself by placing the pan into the sink and opening a cupboard to grab a jar of peanut butter, along with a spoon, a banana, and the small bag of green beans in the refrigerator, and she’s tucked these under her arm and is about to leave the kitchen when 76 says, quietly, “You don’t have to.”  
  
She knows exactly what he’s talking about, and for a long, long moment she stands there, facing away from him, trying to get her tongue to untangle itself.  
  
“I would love it,” she says honestly, her voice coming out more as a croak, and she doesn’t wait for 76’s response as she darts out of the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the headline in a newspaper like five years later or whatever: '76 wins best dad of the year award, begins opening speech by sobbing his eyes out'
> 
> in other news, i may have had to pause while writing this update and asking myself if this was too much at once. then i decided that poor hana deserves some reprieve so here we _aaaaaaaaaare_
> 
> fun fact: i dislike sriracha sauce. also fun fact, speaking of condiments: if you ever want me to go somewhere, just follow me around with the threat to dump ketchup on me and i will hit the ground running and screaming bloody murder at you. (i wish i was joking, but, yes: i do in fact hate ketchup that much.)
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- i was tempted to make 76 blind in this work, but the latest comic with ana amari shows that he isn't :c i try to stay as close to canon as possible, even in AUs like this one, so - he can see. _alas_.  
>  \- torbjörn will eat anything, if only because when he was a young lad he grew up eating a lot of bland foods and anything that isn't bland is exciting and interesting  
> \- mercy once was served live shrimp and was so grossed out that she will not touch seafood with a three-meter stick  
> \- tracer has to eat a lot of calories per day because of her time-travel abilities; constant zipping in and out of time means she's usually awake and moving a lot more than others in battle and during a regular day, so she has to compensate for that lost energy by consuming tons of food.  
> \- **tracer** : what about elevenses? luncheon? afternoon tea? dinner? supper?  
> \- this also means tracer ages faster than everyone else  
> \- winston has to be strongly encouraged to eat vegetables most of the time, despite plants making up a large portion of a gorilla's diet in the first place  
> \- mccree was that guy who refused to eat anything but pizza and fast food and what not and also talked shit about anything that wasn't american until he was conscripted into blackwatch, after which he grew to greatly appreciate different cultures and different foods


	22. in which hana briefly wears a cowboy hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People eat dinner. There's some banter and some wrestling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got to see my sister again!! it's been almost six months and i am very happy to watch her suck at video games while i excel c: also we've been playing lots of pokemon go and talking and it's very lovely <3
> 
>  
> 
>   
> (team mystic ftw!!)  
> 

Everyone shows up for dinner and everyone save Winston heaps praises upon her once they taste the _dak galbi_ , which makes Hana duck her head with a small smile. McCree even slaps his hat onto her head while announcing that he’s found a worthy opponent in the kitchen, which soon devolves into an argument about how bad his food is and how wonderful Hana’s is, and - to be honest, Hana’s a little too overwhelmed to say much, so once 76 has finished eating and has settled at the table with them, she gratefully presses close, a happy smile on her face.  
  
_Home_.  
  
“I’m just sayin’,” McCree says, stabbing his fork in Dr. Ziegler’s direction, his mouth still full of sweet potato and chicken, “We need t’get more spices in that kitchen. Can’t make a good anythin’ without ‘em.”  
  
“I see yer manners haven’t improved,” Torbjörn says.  
  
McCree grins, slow and easy. “Least my bedside manners don’t leave nothin’ to be desired.”  
  
Torbjörn gags, clutching at his throat. Dr. Ziegler smiles a pretty little smile that promises death. “There are kids here,” 76 says, visor as inscrutable as ever as he slowly shakes his head.  
  
“She’s nineteen, she can take it,” McCree says.  
  
“I do not want to,” Hana grumbles, which makes the table laugh, though it quickly fades as everyone continues to stuff their face. She feels warm, knowing her food is tasty enough for people to eat it so quickly.  
  
“Can I get seconds?” Tracer pipes up, making Hana smile even wider. Then the woman frowns and asks, “Are there seconds?”  
  
“You will probably have to make your own food, Lena,” Dr. Ziegler replies, glancing over at Hana and receiving a nod of confirmation. “You know you eat more than everyone else here.”  
  
“Peanut butter sandwich it is!”  
  
“Hey! Those are my jars of peanut butter!” Winston exclaims, lumbering after Tracer as she blinks into the kitchen, laughing almost maniacally. The bag of green beans Hana had brought and Dr. Ziegler had insisted he eat is held safely in one of his hands, at least. “Get your own!”  
  
“The pantry is public space!”  
  
“ _I wrote my name on the lids!_ ”  
  
“You’re too slow!”  
  
Torbjörn laughs and slams his fist down on the table, rattling everything on its surface, and 76’s hand flashes out to keep Hana’s plate from tumbling into her lap. “Where is Reinhardt? He is the only one who would appreciate a _Sonic_ reference.”  
  
“Winston told me he was in Greenland and that he is making his way here,” Dr. Ziegler says. Her smile is a kind one, now, and Hana shoves another bite into her mouth and chews as the doctor goes on, “Of course, you know how he is. He comm’d us a few hours ago to tell us he would be further delayed because ‘justice needs to be served’ or something similar.”  
  
“Nice to know not all of us have changed,” Torbjörn says fondly. “Hope his new mechanic’s doing a good job on his armor.”  
  
“Have a little faith,” Dr. Ziegler says with a laugh.  
  
“You’ve seen the way he treats his Crusader armor, Angel,” McCree says, and Torbjörn nods in agreement.  
  
“That’s true.”  
  
_Reinhardt Wilhelm_. Another famous name, and Hana rests her elbow on the table and props her head on her hand. Of the six founding members, one has returned, another is in the process of returning, three are known to be dead, and one hasn’t been seen ever since Overwatch’s disbandment. Then there’s Dr. Ziegler, who had been a part of the organization back then, much like McCree, Tracer, and Winston. All four of them had been highly decorated officers, her textbook had said that much, not to mention how Tracer and McCree had taken part in the infamous Blackwatch; it’s a sign of desperation that she and 76 are here at all.  
  
_You are the star player of South Korea’s first and most effective MEKA squad_ , she reminds herself, scooping up the last of what’s on her plate onto her fork. _You are reigning champion in Starcraft._ (Though that might not be true anymore?) _76 is an experienced leader and a good soldier. They are not desperate - they are recruiting._  
  
“Mercy,” 76 says suddenly, the first thing he’s said out loud to anyone other than her all evening. Dr. Ziegler turns to him with an inquisitive look on her face, and he says, “Any chance you or Winston can get us computers?”  
  
“I need it for gaming,” Hana chirrups, her plate now empty. She would take it to the kitchen but, from the sounds of it, Winston and Tracer are still tussling in there. “My fans likely think I am dead.”  
  
Dr. Ziegler puts a hand to her chin, thoughtful. “I’m surprised Winston hasn’t requisitioned one for either of you yet. I would bring it up the debrief.”  
  
Oh, right, that’s a thing that happens. It’s surprising that Hana forgot about it, considering she’s been in the military for so long.  
  
“Acknowledged,” 76 says. He grabs Hana’s plate and gets to his feet. “It’s in the conference room?”  
  
“Yes,” Dr. Ziegler says, looking faintly surprised. “I assume Winston will have us report there as soon as he and Lena are finished with their... rough-housing.”  
  
76 nods and Hana is quick to jump up and patter after him as he makes his way to the kitchen. “Maybe I should call ya ‘duckling’, D.Va,” McCree calls after them, only to hold his hands up in surrender when 76, Hana, Dr. Ziegler and even Torbjörn round on him with a glare. “Fine, fine, I’ll lay off. Sheesh. Ain’t no one who can take a joke.” Hana can hear Dr. Ziegler beginning to scold him as they walk away, and 76 chuckles when Hana chucks the hat on her head at McCree before following him.  
  
The kitchen is pure pandemonium when they get there - Winston is hovering over his peanut butter protectively as Tracer continuously blinks around him, trying and failing to get the jars out from beneath his girth. The beginnings of a sandwich lay forlornly on the counter, knife and two slices of bread and a jar of strawberry jelly, and 76 quietly puts Hana’s plate into the dishwasher and ushers her out before either of the two notice them. McCree and Torbjörn are making their way to the kitchen when they exit while Dr. Ziegler waits by the doorway, and she falls into step beside the two of them as they walk.  
  
“You left before I could examine you, Hana,” Dr. Ziegler says to Hana as 76 leads them - presumably to the conference room? “You don’t appear to have any injuries, but I would still prefer to check after the debrief if that is all right with you.”  
  
“Okay,” Hana says, because she’s not about to cross Dr. Ziegler anytime in the near future.  
  
“Excellent,” Dr. Ziegler says with a small smile. “Come find me once the debrief is finished. I promise it will only take a moment.”  
  
Hana nods. 76 doesn’t offer any conversational topics of his own, and Dr. Ziegler seems satisfied with saying nothing at all, so the walk to the conference room is spent in slightly uncomfortable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much to say about this update other than the fact i will be updating twice today because it is not a good stand-alone chapter c:
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- mccree takes hana's opinion of him very seriously. he just wants to _bond_ , dammit  
> \- mercy really just wants to get a look at hana's mental health  
> \- torbjörn respects hana as a soldier and doesn't see her as a child. maybe because everyone's taller than him so he doesn't judge one's maturity by height?  
> \- tracer wants to adopt hana as her little sister i'm pretty sure  
> \- winston privately thinks hana should not be involved with any of this, but he can't deny that she has skills  
> \- 76 sees hana as a capable soldier for whom he would give his life


	23. secret's out, kind of not really

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winston debriefs the group. Hana remains stoic in the face of oddity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today i spent the day with a friend and we played dark souls III! it was great! we switched off whenever one of us died, which, as you can imagine, works out great with dark souls, so it was a lot of screaming and laughing and getting stuck in the same places.
> 
> it's nice when life is good c:

76, Hana and Dr. Ziegler are the first ones to arrive to the conference room, unsurprisingly. What’s more surprising is when McCree breezes in just a minute or two later, followed by Torbjörn, Winston and Tracer all walking together.  
  
The seating arrangement goes like this: Winston at the head, resting on his haunches as is his prerogative. Tracer in the closest seat up front, on the left; across from her, McCree leans back, unlit cigar between his teeth. Next to him sits Dr. Ziegler, looking relaxed yet pristine in civvies. Across from her sits Torbjörn, or, rather, stands Torbjörn. 76 slips into the spot next to Dr. Ziegler and Hana fights the urge to take the spot next to him; instead she sits across from him, next to Torbjörn, who gives her a toothy smile before facing the front.  
  
“I’m sure none of you need a recap,” Winston begins as soon as everyone is seated, tapping a few keys of the holographic computer, “So I’ll keep this short. Talon was after a data drive that has presumably been kept in the Blackwatch bunker in Russia for some time. We retrieved the data drive and I’ve begun looking through it - and I’ve found something I think you’ll all find quite exciting.  
  
“But first, Torbjörn,” Winston says, looking at the stout mechanic, “Would you mind explaining what you were doing out there on the first place?”  
  
Torbjörn shrugs, smiling widely. “I was on the run. You know how it is.”  
  
“Actually, I don’t,” says Winston, the gorilla who has stayed in the same place ever since Overwatch was shut down.  
  
“I do, and I don’t understand why you’d go to Russia of all places,” puts in McCree, the mercenary who has a crazily huge bounty on his head. “It’s as bad as it gets.”  
  
“Maybe to the ignorant lot,” Torbjörn says with a sniff. This earns him a collective eye roll, but he just laughs and explains, “Basically a lot of people are after me so I can build ‘em new superweapons and such. Since I’m not about to do that, then or now, I figured I might as well start running about to keep ‘em off of me. Ended up in Russia when I got the recall.” He flaps a hand. “Took me a bit to respond, took me a bit longer before I realized I wasn’t going to make it here without help.”  
  
“So of course you call us in at the last minute,” Dr. Ziegler says with a sigh.  
  
“I was handling myself just fine!” Torbjörn says defensively, though he quails under the doctor’s sharp look and mutters, “The backup was nice.”  
  
“So it took you a bit before you settled in a hut in the middle of fu - freakin’ nowhere,” McCree says, catching himself mid-sentence when 76’s hand curls into a fist on the table. Hana rolls her eyes so hard her head physically moves with the motion, and McCree cracks a smile. “How’d you even get there?”  
  
“You’d be surprised how easy it is to rig up a snowmobile from car parts,” Torbjörn admits. “Fuel was a bit harder - ran out a few kilometers west. Had enough cold weather gear to last for a few weeks so I figured I’d keep moving. Stroke of luck that I happened upon the place.”  
  
“I didn’t see any cold weather gear while we were bailing you out,” Tracer says with a frown.  
  
“Bulky. Makes it hard to move,” Torbjörn explains. He shrugs. “When I called you lot, I realized I needed to keep warm somehow. Turns out down goes up fast.”  
  
“That’s it?” Winston says.  
  
Torbjörn nods. “You know the rest.”  
  
“When did you know it was a Blackwatch bunker?” Tracer asks, leaning forward in her chair.  
  
“You kiddin’ me, lass? Walked in, saw there was nothing there, knew right away it was suspicious. Bit o’ searching and I found the actual bunker mechanism pretty quick. Didn’t look around because who knows what’s in it, but when Talon showed up I knew there had to be something.”  
  
The story is plausible. Hana sees no reason why the man would lie, and apparently no one else does, either, because Winston merely nods and picks up the data drive in question.  
  
“Talon’s known about that particular bunker for some time,” Winston says. “Athena has been going through every single bit of data we can pull on the group and, based on reported activity, it seems they’ve been going there for a while.”  
  
“So Torbjörn essentially stumbled upon a goldmine of information completely by accident,” Dr. Ziegler surmises.  
  
“Precisely,” Winston confirms. He shakes the data drive for emphasis. “Which explains why they were so aggressive in trying to retrieve this.”  
  
“They pulled back after I shot the Reaper guy in the head,” McCree points out. “The information on there’s important, sure, but maybe not totally essential. I mean, relatively? They gave it up pretty easily.”  
  
Winston’s smile is strangely enigmatic, for a creature who was typically so straightforward. “Not essential, but it’s important, I promise.”  
  
“You said something interesting was on the drive, yes?” Dr. Ziegler says as if on cue, the gorilla plugging the data drive into the holographic computer’s mainframe. “What was it?”  
  
Winston doesn’t say anything for a while, tapping away at the computer. A few moments later it projects a blue-hued screen in the air, symbols and numbers flitting by so rapidly Hana can’t follow. Winston pauses it after a moment, clicks on a series of letters, and a new screen opens up to reveal - an ID of sorts. It’s in a language Hana doesn’t understand but the picture gives her pause. It takes everything in her not to glance over at 76, though she manages to appear to look at the ID without any outward reaction. She’ll ask 76 about it later; there must be a reason, or maybe more than one reason, that he’s hiding his face.  
  
 After all, the picture looks exactly like 76 without his mask on, minus the scars, minus the gray hair.  
  
“According to this,” Winston says, with a tone that is equal parts dread and excitement, “There’s a pretty big chance that Jack Morrison is alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaaaaahhhh?? what could be next for our intrepid heroes??
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- mercy is one of those people who can't sit still. it will look like she's motionless when she's at her desk or she's standing, but you can bet she's bouncing her leg or moving her fingers behind her back or even just flexing and relaxing her foot  
> \- torbjörn, on the other hand, can sit in one spot and not move for a really, _really_ long time. it's kind of nuts, but that's how he can get so much done when he's busy mechanic-ing  
>  \- mccree does not know how to drive  
> \- (he _can_ drive but he's really bad at it, let's just put it that way)  
>  \- tracer writes in her spare time  
> \- winston draws in his spare time  
> \- they've collaborated to make stories before, which are buried deep in winston's files somewhere; everyone in the original overwatch crew has read them, though  
> \- 76 has perfect pitch and he has no idea why but he does so there it is  
> \- hana used to play piano and cello before she abandoned everything for _Starcraft_


	24. i pretend to take notes in meetings so people think i care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tracer gets a little miffed. Hana provides a distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i started watching age of voltron!! i am on episode eight. i am very happy with it so far, though i think it could use a bit more romance. i mean, really. many of the paladins are very shippable with each other c:
> 
> i hope you are having/have had/will have a wonderful day today!

Hana spends the rest of the debrief in a slight daze, doing her utmost to keep her gaze trained away from 76. If anyone thinks it’s odd how intensely she’s studying the holographic display, no one chooses to comment; in fact, most are too distracted to pay her the least bit of mind.  
  
“Jack could be _alive_?” Tracer shouts, leaning so far out of her seat that there’s no doubt she’s definitely standing up.

“Jack died when the Swiss base blew up,” Torbjörn puts in, leaning forward until his hands are flat on the table. “There was nothing left.”  
  
“I don’t know how or why,” Winston says placatingly, “But Talon has reason to believe Jack is alive and has been traveling around the world. His last known location was Dorado, in Mexico, according to this.”  
  
“Can we trust this information is legitimate?” Dr. Ziegler asks as Tracer sits back with a huff.  
  
“Considering it was under several layers of encryptions, I believe so. I was just as wary of getting my hopes up, but - everything checks out. Talon has been keeping careful records of where Jack has supposedly struck, and they do match up to actual attacks. The Los Muertos gang in Dorado were quick to announce a bounty for the vigilante that attacked them, at any rate.”  
  
76 has little reaction of any kind to this news, despite everything - Hana can see several of his tics in her peripheral vision, but they are subtle, unnoticeable to the trained eye. He’s cautious and antsy and he wants out. There’s no doubt in Hana’s mind: she’s looking at a man who should be long dead.  
  
“Not to be the one rainin’ on the parade,” McCree says, holding his cigar between two fingers, looking more alert and far less relaxed than Hana’s ever seen him, “But ain’t it a bit of a reach? Man’s good as dead. All of us saw the base in Geneva. There’s - the chance that he made it out is slim, that’s all.”  
  
“I was at his funeral,” Torbjörn says. It comes out almost like a snarl. “Reinhardt gave the eulogy. You were _there_ , Winston.”  
  
“It was closed casket,” Winston points out.  
  
“Because there were not enough of his remains for viewing,” Dr. Ziegler says, succinct and precise. She doesn’t sound cold, not quite; mostly she sounds tired. “Even with the stipulations in place concerning autopsies of those in the super-soldier program, I was still able to examine Gabriel. For Jack - there was almost nothing left.”  
  
“Did you ever see these remains?”  
  
“I - yes, of course,” Dr. Ziegler says, bristling slightly. “It was hardly recognizable, but what bits, what _scraps_ that were dug up matched. He’s dead. We should accept that.”  
  
Her certainty strikes Hana as unusual, given the uneasy glances everyone is casting each other. She doesn’t know how, but she has a very good bet that 76 knows why.  
  
“Okay, so if he _is_ alive,” McCree says, holding up his hands when Dr. Ziegler rounds on him with a poisonous look, “Hypothetically, theoretically, what have you - if Jack is alive, why the hell would he be strikin’ out on his own? The minute he heard about the Overwatch recall, he’d’ve hightailed it here, yeah?”  
  
“He’s got a point,” Torbjörn agrees. “Jack and Gabe put everything into Overwatch, and most governments have caught at least wind of us. We should’ve heard from him, or he should be here right now if he’s still alive.”  
  
Oh, the irony. Hana must fail at choking back her laugh because everyone looks over at her, and then she tenses up when 76 nudges her foot under the table with his because, well - what would D.Va say? “Sorry,” she says with a cheeky smile, patting her upper chest a few times. “Hair caught in my throat.” McCree and Winston fix her with identical confused looks. Torbjörn, meanwhile, shakes his head with a smile as Dr. Ziegler lets out a soft, lilting giggle and even Tracer cracks a grin - so Hana, feeling a little brave, tilts her head and says, “You know, when you take a long hair and it gets into your mouth? And then goes down your throat?”  
  
“What,” McCree says blankly. 76 nudges her foot again and she briefly looks over at him and nods marginally.  
  
“It’s irrelevant,” Torbjörn assures him, though he throws Hana another smile that she returns.  
  
Hana makes a show of turning around as if to get the strand out of her mouth - ugh, she’s done that enough to know how to fake it - as Winston, amused, says, “Going back to Torbjörn’s argument, I think the fact Jack _isn’t_ here is actually more telling. He’s clearly going around and doing what he thinks is right - apparently he’s also stopped a bank heist recently.”  
  
“So he’s helping out in his own way,” McCree surmises. He frowns. “Jack never did like to work alone, you know? Still don’t seem quite right.”  
  
“I am not sure if I can believe this at all,” Dr. Ziegler says dubiously. “Jack is dead. As McCree said, we’ve all seen the explosion site. Everyone in the facility, not just the high-profile Overwatch members, were killed.”  
  
“What happened to your motto, Angela?” Tracer snaps, speaking up for the first time in a while. She looks furious, but at the same time - not? It’s hard for Hana to say for sure. “You were always the one who told us heroes never die.”  
  
“That is different and you know it,” Dr. Ziegler says, steely.  
  
“Yeah? Care to explain why, then?”  
  
“I was not there during the explosion, Lena,” Dr. Ziegler says, and her patience is starting to wear thin, Hana can see it. “By the time I arrived, it was far too late. There was no way I could have saved either of them - ”  
  
“So you weren’t there, so there’s a chance Jack is still alive!”  
  
“ _No_ , there isn’t.”  
  
“Talon thinks so!” Tracer’s on her feet now, violently jabbing towards the holoprojection of Commander Jack Morrison's ID with her hand. Her chronal accelerator’s glow intensifies and brightens as she snarls, “Jack could be alive and we’re squabbling about whether or not we should be finding him? No! We should be searching for him! He would have come to us otherwise, he must have been stopped, or, or arrested, or - ”  
  
Torbjörn snorts. “Jack is too good for the authorities to catch him just like that.”  
  
“I’m with Torby,” McCree says, his gaze flitting away when Tracer turns flinty eyes on him. “The odds are not lookin’ good, Lena, and since when have we ever trusted Talon?”  
  
“But what if he _is_ alive?” Tracer says, her hands fisting on the table. “We can’t just - we don’t abandon each other! We’re family, we help each other when we need it! If he’s alive, are we really willing to take the risk of leaving him out there without - ”  
  
76 stands up and, without a word, slips out from between the seats and makes his way towards the exit of the room. Hana, after a brief hesitation, jumps up as well, though it’s not until she’s trotted to catch up with him that anyone seems to notice.  
  
“The debrief isn’t over, Soldier, D.Va,” Winston calls, sounding subdued and startled at the same time.  
  
“Could’ve fooled me,” 76 answers, painfully neutral, and Hana can practically hear the collective wince that goes around the table. “Let me know when you all stop arguing about a ghost.”

No one moves to stop him when he palms the conference room door open, and Hana casts one last glance over her shoulder before she crosses the threshold after him.

Everyone is staring in eerie silence as the door closes behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jack "subtle is my middle name" morrison, everyone
> 
> also yes, the thing with the hair going down the throat? the happens to people with long hair. it's terrible. it's worse when you swallow it or the hair is still attached to your head. (i didn't realize how awful it was until i got a haircut and i was free from the pain, myself.)
> 
> but yeah, hana has, like, so many questions, you guys. it's a bit insane.
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- mccree left his mother and younger sister behind when he joined the deadlock gang. when he was forced into blackwatch, he eventually viewed gabriel reyes as a father figure; he is aware of why reyes hated jack, given that's what made him resign from blackwatch in the first place, but can't find it in himself to hate him despite his respect for jack  
> \- (he never did contact his family again and he has no plans to)  
> \- mercy's parents were killed in war canonically, so there's not much for me to headcanon there except that she had no siblings. she was also canonically aware of the rift between jack and gabriel, though i like to think she was close to both of them (and ana) and it was devastating when she heard about the explosion  
> \- hana's parents are divorced, with her mother remarried to a man with three kids, all boys. hana's father remained single and is the ceo for a company that specializes in buying, restoring, and selling antiquities  
> \- 76 did not know he was leaving his parents and two younger siblings, a brother and sister, behind forever when he joined the military, though he vid/called them frequently even during his tenure as overwatch's commander. as they believe he is dead, he has no plans to contact them  
> \- winston, of course, grew up on the moon base and was the only gorilla to escape. he had no siblings  
> \- torbjörn never married and has no plans to  
> \- (i don't even know how to headcanon family for this guy because there's so little background information available)  
> \- tracer grew up in a poorer part of london and dreamed about flying for a young age. she wanted to escape her boring life with her parents and enlisted as soon as she was old enough


	25. the best proof of love is trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana and 76 hash it out. Surprisingly, no one interrupts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you had/are having/will have a lovely day today!
> 
> Aqua_Artist DREW A COMIC ([HERE](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/post/148367200735/k3ysm4sh-your-bucky-inspired-by-the-fic)) AND IT IS CUTE AND ADORABLE AND I LOVE IT <3

It’s only once they are in the safety of 76’s room that he sighs and says, “Ask away.”  
  
The room is color-coordinated, much like hers, though his is a muted green rather than a pure blue. There are signs of him here already - water bottles and snacks lined up on his dresser, granola bars and extra ammunition for guns he doesn’t even own sitting nice and pretty there too, everything in neat and impeccable order. Hana’s willing to bet his bathroom is spotless, with a toothbrush in a toothbrush stand and the tooth paste and floss tucked away in a drawer. Seriously, who even flosses these days?  
  
As it stands, however, she tilts her head at him, considering. 76 has always been exceedingly careful about his own personal information, in fact she hardly knows the first thing about him despite traveling with him for a month. The simple truth that he is willingly baring his neck to her in this way is, frankly, a little daunting; Hana never thought she would have a person she trusted as much as him, and to know that that trust is reciprocated is scary. It’s an honor, to be sure, a privilege, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.  
  
As it stands, however, she’s been given an opportunity, and even 76 would not be pleased if she squandered it. So she squares her shoulders, takes in a breath, and says, “You are Jack Morrison.”  
  
76 nods. Two hands reach up to press the release valves on the sides of his visor; when it comes off, Hana is treated to startlingly blue eyes and a scarred visage that has become so familiar in the last weeks it doesn’t seem possible that 76 is someone else. Yet the proof is right there in his face, and Hana briefly flicks her eyes away, considering, before looking back at him again.  
  
“Should I call you Seventy-six, still?” Hana asks, before musing, “Not that I could call you Jack in front of the others.”  
  
Something in her words makes 76 physically deflate in relief, and Hana realizes with a jolt that the man had expected her to immediately tell the rest of their team members who he is. It’s… it’s a little insulting, actually, and she gives him a tight frown that he smiles apologetically at, so at least it’s smoothed over.  
  
“Yes,” 76 says in belated answer to her query. “I’m not really Jack anymore. Different man, different morals, different goals. It wouldn’t be right.” He winces. “That sounded emo as hell.”  
  
“At least you acknowledge it,” Hana says with a small smile, one 76 returns. It fades, though, as she asks, “Is that why you wish to hide the fact that you are alive - you do not want to resume the same role, because that is no longer who you are?”  
  
76 nods. His expression is one that Hana would describe as morose, in an exhausted sort of way.  
  
“Then why bother coming back at all?” Hana wonders.  
  
“Can do the most good this way,” 76 says promptly. He sighs. “There’s only so much you can do as a wanted man.”  
  
“McCree would beg to differ.”  
  
“McCree can go jump in a lake.”  
  
She snorts. “That I would watch.”  
  
76 cracks a grin at that, and it strikes Hana that she’s staring at a legend - that she’s _friends_ with a legend. This is a man who helped end the Omnic Crisis with sheer power of will and a motley crew of recruits; this is a man who ushered in an era of peace after the Crisis, who maintained diplomatic ties between countries at war and often sat at U.N. meetings and was so heroic the medals he had were innumerable. Commander Morrison’s death sent the entire world into silence. His name continues to be used to scare recruits and inspire them in the same breath.  
  
And here he is: Jack. A man who was defeated by inside forces people have yet to find, buried under rubble in Switzerland and thought for dead. How long has he been on his own?  
  
“Who is Reaper?” Hana asks, remembering as if in a dream: he and 76 had interacted in Russia as if they had known each other. 76 had even mentioned that they’d run into each other a few times beforehand.  
  
“Gabriel Reyes.”  
  
She… she’s surprised, to say the least. Not only because Gabriel Reyes, too, should be dead, but because 76 had so quickly decided he could trust her with this information.  
  
“Even in death, you two are still fighting,” Hana says, and then smiles a razor-thin smile. “Ballads have been written for less.”  
  
“There’s nothing poetic about violence,” 76 says, eyes on his feet. She’d always known that 76 was old, but it’s different when she can see his face, see the beginnings of wrinkles on his face, see how he lets his whole body uncoil and loosen in the safety and privacy of his room. He lets her see all of this as he breathes out a weary sigh and looks up at her with a smile. “Gabe and I never really did see eye-to-eye, even when he was Strike Commander.”  
  
“What is he?”  
  
“A ghost,” 76 says. He doesn’t look unsettled by this. “I don’t know what he looks like - I probably never will. His mask is bolted to his face.”  
  
“It is _bolted_ to his face?”  
  
76 reaches up and touches a finger to the right of his forehead, then his left. Where the bolts are, she imagines, and she shudders. “That was my reaction. I recognized him by his shotguns.”  
  
“Why would he - who could have - ”  
  
“Your guess is as good as mine.” He shakes his head. “Maybe Talon. I can see why Talon may have reconstructed him. He’s effective, but expensive.”  
  
“He throws his guns away when he needs to reload.”  
  
“Exactly.” They both shake their heads at this, his fond, hers incredulous, before a comfortable silence falls. Hana’s mind is whirring along speedily, processing everything she’s learned in the past few minutes, and 76 gives her time to contemplate everything as she slowly settles on one last question.  
  
“Why bring me along?” Hana asks at length. “Why ask me to join you, if you did not want to put an innocent in danger?”  
  
76 is expressionless. He slouches over his legs and rests his elbows on his knees as he considers, and Hana studies what she can see of his face as he brings his hands up to his chin.  
  
“You looked lost,” 76 says at last. He shrugs, looks up at her, and then glances away. “I know the feeling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 76 thinks he is doing what is best for the team. whether this is true or not remains to be seen. (it _rhymes_!! this is the best day of my life)
> 
> i bought assassin's creed: syndicate yesterday and i love evie so much. i just wish the creators hadn't fallen into the traditional brother-sister relationships and personalities, at least for jacob!! he's so 'yeah i'm strong and stubborn and headstrong i don't care about consequences i don't think before i act hurr durr'. but at least the twins have a good friendship so i'm mostly happy with that c: plus ned!!
> 
> ALSO Aqua_Artist DREW A COMIC ([HERE](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/post/148367200735/k3ysm4sh-your-bucky-inspired-by-the-fic)) AND IT IS CUTE AND ADORABLE AND I LOVE IT <3
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- team valor: tracer, d.va, zarya, roadhog, pharah, reinhardt, mccree  
> \- team mystic: winston, symmetra, hanzo, reaper, zenyatta, mercy, widowmaker  
> \- team instinct: 76, genji, bastion, mei, junkrat, torbjorn, lucio, ana


	26. the youngest person to climb mount everest was thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana wakes up and meets a mountain, not literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you are all having a wonderful day! or will have a wonderful day! or have had a wonderful day! c:

The next morning finds someone knocking on Hana’s door at the asscrack of dawn. Hana would normally ignore it, but even burying her head under the pillow doesn’t drown out the steady, monotonous pounding, so instead she groans, long and loud, and drags herself to her feet. She blindly navigates her way to the doorway and, when she opens it, she’s almost surprised to blink her eyes open and see the red glow from 76’s visor.  
  
“Wake up,” 76 says, like the barbaric morning person he is.  
  
Hana’s not sure what she says in response, but she’s sure it’s nothing good or intelligible as she steps aside to let him in before closing the door behind him. He has the audacity to flick on the lights and laugh as she hisses at him, one arm almost slamming into her face in her rush to cover her eyes, and then he gives her a slight nudge towards her bed and she stumbles over and drops into it. She huffs. _Nappeunnom._  
  
“You have to get up,” he says after a moment.  
  
“ _Shirreuh_.”  
  
“Everyone else is up.”  
  
“ _Shirreuh_.”  
  
“Hana, it’s past ten.” Pause. “In the morning.” Another pause. “You missed breakfast.”  
  
There is no universe in which Hana could care less. She rolls around for a bit until her covers are kind of wrapped around her, almost like a blanket burrito, and then burrows into her pillow and repeats, with a tone of finality, “ _Shirreuh_.”  
  
76 lets that settle in the silence. Hana has a niggling feeling that it won’t last, but she’ll take what she can get - or so she thinks, right up until she’s just about dozed off and 76 rouses her into wakefulness again as he says, “They’re running practice simulations and they want us there in - ” And there’s a pause, like he’s checking something - “Ten. You gonna take a shower?”  
  
“ _Shirreuh_ ,” she mumbles again, and then she shrieks with 76 reaches over, businesslike, and rips her blanket away. She is so startled that she rolls off the bed and hits the ground with a thump, though she’s on her feet in an instant and her hand goes for her handgun just as 76 reaches out and bats it off of her bedside table. She ends up taking his arm instead and twisting, serpentine, until she can throw him over her shoulder and onto the bed, and then she’s got her gun and - and now she’s awake. Dammit.  
  
“You are the worst,” she tells him as he laughs, lowering the handgun and looking around for her bodysuit. She’d had the foresight to lay it out on her desk, at least, and she snatches it up and makes for the bathroom. “I will meet you in five.”  
  
“Better make it three. It’s a bit of a walk.”  
  
She grunts in acknowledgment, closing the bathroom door and shedding the loose-fitting clothes in favor of her skintight bodysuit. Then she shoves a comb through her hair as she brushes her teeth, breezes out to grab her headset and finding 76 had vacated the room, and when she exits and locks her door 76 inclines her head and they set off at a brisk walk. She does a double take when he wordlessly hands her a plastic baggie with sliced apples, but she nibbles on them nonetheless as they go along.  
  
“Have to work on your gunmanship,” 76 muses after a few moments. “Hopefully they’ll be okay with us going to one of the shooting ranges instead.”  
  
“Why would they not be?”  
  
“As you’ve probably figured out,” 76 says, “It’s hard to get this team to agree on anything.”  
  
… He’s not wrong. Yesterday’s debrief is a pretty good example of that, and Hana bites down on another apple slice, crunching thoughtfully. “I could do my damsel in distress impersonation.”  
  
“We might just have to practice later,” 76 says. “Not like you have anything to do until your computer arrives.”  
  
“True,” she concedes. They’ve made it out of the barracks and into the late morning air, now, and it’s a bit cloudy and windy, the ocean waves a bit higher and whiter than usual. She wonders if they have raincoats stashed around base, or if she would have to run back to the barracks outdoors. Why, if Overwatch is so advanced and amazing and awesome, are there not any tunnels or skyways?  
  
The rest of the walk is spent in amiable silence as they enter the training ranges and the door slides shut behind them. Even from the entrance Hana can hear the other members of Overwatch already squabbling away, and she and 76 follow the voices until they reach a closed door and palm themselves in.  
  
“Cavalry’s here!” Tracer shouts from atop a bunch of metal scraps, all the while giggling wildly. Her handguns are holstered, thankfully, but Hana notes with quick observance that everyone else is either partially behind cover or in a defensive position, so clearly something had gone down prior to their arrival. A few moments later the woman snaps upright and sees them in the door, waving. “Oh, D.Va and 76! Hullo!”  
  
“ _Hallo!_ ” someone else says. It takes Hana a moment to realize it’s the mountain of metal scraps that’s talking. It takes her a bit longer to realize that it’s not a mountain of metal scraps - it’s a _person_. “You are both very small!” the person says, and Hana focuses in on the friendly face poking outside of the ludicrously large armor. His head looks small in proportion and she has to resist the urge to laugh, even while 76 tenses slightly beside her. “Have they not been feeding you well here? I will fix that!”  
  
No one says anything for a while. Hana continues to stare, 76 slowly lowers his pulse rifle - and when had he raised that? - and everyone else in the training range seems to be suspended in an almost cautious silence.  
  
“D.Va, Seventy-six, this is Reinhardt Wilhelm, a bit ahead of schedule,” Winston says at last, in a voice that sounds infinitely tired. “Reinhardt, this is D.Va and Soldier: Seventy-six, our newest members.”  
  
Reinhardt laughs. It’s as hearty as his name, and Hana can’t help but smile in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **korean**  
>  _nappeunnom_ \- jerk  (again i did not consult my resident expert b/c daily updates so this will likely be adjusted later)  
>  _shirreuh_ \- no, i don't want to (courtesy glitchCANDIES)
> 
>  **german**  
>  _hallo_ \- hello
> 
> i am a morning person, as it turns out, and i do not need coffee/tea/energy drinks to keep me going. fear me!! (but don't actually i don't bite i promise c:)
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- hufflepuff: widowmaker, ana, genji, bastion, reinhardt, zenyatta  
> \- ravenclaw: symmetra, hanzo, pharah, mei, mercy  
> \- gryffindor: tracer, lúcio, roadhog, torbjörn, zarya  
> \- slytherin: mccree, 76, junkrat, reaper, winston, d.va


	27. what defines us is how well we rise after falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana and an old man do battle. It's exciting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today it was raining all day, but my sister and i went out for pokemon go anyway! it was great. she's team valor and i'm team mystic so it makes for a fun time at gyms c:
> 
> have a wonderful day! <3

Reinhardt is a very big person. Hana, being a tank herself, is pitted against him as one of the first ‘practice rounds’, much to her chagrin, and even when she looks up at her MEKA she’s not sure how she’s going to win against him. He’s got decades of experience on her, for one thing. For another, her aim is not nearly as bad in her mech but it’s still something she needs to work on, even with such a large target.  
  
Naturally, even before 76 could finish phrasing the question, Winston vetoed the idea of Hana and 76 going off to practice her markmanship and insisted that he and Hana stay for the team practice - so that’s out until later in the day. Why did she agree to this?  
  
“Stay out of range of the hammer and be ready to dodge his charge,” 76 advises when she glances over to him before boarding her mech, knowing now, at least, that he’ll know quite well what each of Reinhardt’s strengths are. “Watch the barrier shield. Whittle it down with your fusion cannons.”  
  
“Can it block a self-destruct?”  
  
76 tilts his head, considering. “Probably,” he says, before amending, “If it’s fully charged.”  
  
Hana nods. That’s something she can work with. “Anything else?”  
  
A few moments pass while he thinks. “Earth shatter,” he says at last, thoughtful. “If you see him bring his hammer straight up over head, try to flank him. Otherwise you’ll be incapacitated for a bit.”  
  
“Uh.” The _how?_ goes unspoken.  
  
“No way you’ll keep your balance, even in this,” 76 explains, raising a hand and giving her MEKA a quick pat. “Once you’re caught flatfooted, he’ll make his move.”  
  
She chews her lip as she steps up and into her mech, absently flicking switches and pressing buttons and booting up the screens until it hums softly, awake and ready for action. 76 gives her one last nod before stepping off to the side, and then D.Va steps into the training range - a simple arena now, with Reinhardt on one side and her on the other, a few walls here and there to act as cover - and Tracer, sitting pretty on the viewing deck up a floor, waits until both tanks are in place before shouting gleefully, “Match start!”  
  
D.Va begins firing immediately, mind whirring. Her defense matrix is useless against a hammer, so she deactivates it and allocates the extra power towards her boosters instead, nervously watching Reinhardt flick out the barrier shield and begin a slow advance to her. The bullets from her fusion cannons don’t seem to do much but she keeps it up, moving to circle around the knight and stay out of range.  
  
She notes the change in stance immediately and slams down on her rocket boosters before thinking about where she’s aiming. Unfortunately for her, as Reinhardt goes flying towards her, she boosts directly towards him, and with a hissed sigh she braces herself for impact - only instead of being launched away from him, he catches her, drives her forward, and crunches her into a wall. She barely has time to boost away before he swings his hammer at her mech and “I thought no one was supposed to get hurt!” she yells, running diagnostics as she resumes firing at him. She gets a few solid shots in before the barrier is up again, and this time she can see cracks running along the glowing surface. Her mech informs her that it's fine for now, but even one more hit like that and it will quit on her.  
  
“I will not hurt you badly,” Reinhardt promises, though it sounds much more ominous than she would like. He doesn’t seem to notice as he once again begins his slow advance, and this time, D.Va begins to shy away more quickly, occasionally stopping her endless fire to move away faster. She won’t be caught again.  
  
So she thinks, until Reinhardt roars and swings his hammer and _fire_ comes out of it. She tries to sidestep but she’s in the middle of firing her cannons; the flame hits her and goes past and drives her sensors haywire, something she ignores with gritted teeth as she continues to shoot. 76 hadn’t warned her about whatever that had been; she would ask him or maybe Reinhardt himself later.  
  
She’s just about to quit shooting again to move further away from Reinhardt when his barrier breaks and he charges her instead. With a grin she rocket boosts out of the way and fires bullets on him, moving continuously as he abandons his previous caution and runs towards her, hammer swinging. He isn’t able to catch her - he gets close, sure, but he doesn’t catch her, and D.Va laughs delightedly as his armor chips under her endless rain.  
  
It's all well and good and she seems to have an extreme upper hand until “You’ve heard of charge, now get ready for - ” and here Reinhardt swings his hammer high above his head - “ _Earth shatter!_ ”  
  
D.Va swears and activates her rocket boosters full tilt, aiming diagonally but mostly left of Reinhardt. The hammer, when it comes down, cracks the floor with glowing orange, like lava, almost, and she can see exactly what 76 meant as she immediately opens fire again. Reinhardt charges her instead, and with a grimace she lets him crack into her again before she slams down the self-destruct button, ejects, and runs for the far side of the arena as the mech counts down behind her. She just barely swings behind a wall when the thing explodes, and she swears again when debris cuts down her arm and leaves a tear in her bodysuit and her skin.  
  
But then it’s over. Reinhardt lets out a groan as Hana pokes her head out and sees him flat on the ground, armor looking far worse for wear, and then he begins to laugh jovially, and then he says, almost in wonderment, “Small _and_ mighty! An excellent combination.”  
  
“D.Va?” 76 calls, and Hana edges out of cover and gives him a slight wave. It should be hilarious how his shoulders relax in relief, but mostly she’s just glad she’s not dead.  
  
“You’re gettin’ slow in your old age, Rein,” McCree says, to which Reinhardt laughs before cutting himself off with a wheeze and oh yeah, isn’t he really old? Hana steps her way over as her mech reforms and lands with a crunch behind her, and when she offers a hand Reinhardt takes it. Somehow she actually helps him to his feet, though she suspects he does most of the work as he huffs, hands over his knees, and offers her a grin.  
  
“D.Va, yes?” he says, and Hana nods. “You are very strong for your age! I am almost envious.”  
  
“Is it not time for you to hang up your armor?” Dr. Ziegler says, exasperated. She’s flitted over to Reinhardt by now, healing staff activated, and she puts a hand to her forehead as she sighs. “This is causing unnecessary strain to your body, Reinhardt. You need to be careful.”  
  
“I can still match the youth!” Reinhardt declares.  
  
“That does _not_ mean you have to,” Dr. Ziegler retorts and, after a cursory glance at Hana’s arm, she waves her away. “D.Va, have 76 look at that. Reinhardt has pushed himself too far, again.”  
  
“Understood,” Hana says, and it’s only then that her arm decides that yes, it is in pain, and then she winces and makes her way over. 76 places a biotic field down as she nears him and she sits down in the middle of it with a happy sigh, not bothering to budge when 76 takes the seat next to her, pulse rifle cradled in his lap.  
  
“You did not warn me about the fire,” Hana says after a moment, a little sleepily; the warmth in her body, especially her arm, is making her drowsy.  
  
“Forgot.” He shrugs. “I’m old. I forget things.”  
  
“Not usually, you do not.”  
  
“Yeah,” he agrees, and she can tell he’s smiling, and it strikes her that he's _proud_ of her, “I guess so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **reinhardt, on a stretcher after literally any battle with/against hana** : i must mentor this girl into greatness!  
>  **mercy, holding him down through sheer force of will and also straps, probably** : no you will not
> 
> twenty-seven chapters and still no junkrat or roadhog! i'm slacking, clearly.
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- reaper is passive-aggressive as hell  
> \- 76 tried to train gabriel out of passive-aggressiveness back when they were buds but learned how to be passive-aggressive as hell instead  
> \- mercy is the queen of passive-aggressiveness though  
> \- mccree enjoys taking sarcastic comments seriously, much to everyone's chagrin. people may think he just doesn't get sarcasm, but, no, he just willfully ignores it because it's hilarious  
> \- reinhardt is the memelord  
> \- hana loves rain and thunderstorms, but only if she has an umbrella or a raincoat  
> \- tracer used to wear a watch in order to tell what time it was while she blinked around, but doing so made her watch break so now she just relies on others


	28. until the memes go marching in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's German food. There are also some other people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i went to the mall today and played a lot of pokemon go! it was fun watching the gyms keep changing colors. mystic usually held them the longest c: i also caught a lapras!! it was very exciting. now i am at level fifteen!
> 
> i hope you saw the olympic opener!! and had a wonderful day c:

As the training goes on, Hana is paired up with everyone at least once, or put into a group with them at least once. The very last match pits her, Tracer, and Dr. Ziegler against Winston, 76, and McCree, which is not very fair in her opinion, but they manage to crush them anyway in no small part due to Hana’s defense matrix and Tracer’s abilities. Dr. Ziegler hardly has to use her staff; indeed, she focuses more on powering up Hana’s attacks and occasionally firing at the opposition.  
  
“Getting too old for this,” 76 huffs afterwards, slinging his pulse rifle over his shoulder and wincing when it hits a bruise. Hana bumps her shoulder against his arm, grinning, and he shakes his head fondly. “Good job using your DM. Couldn’t get a hit on any of you.”  
  
“That’s just because I didn’t use deadeye,” McCree complains, a bit petulantly.  
  
“I did not have my mech explode,” Hana counters.  
  
“And I didn’t use any pulse bombs!” Tracer adds.  
  
“And I didn’t go all-out, and 76 didn’t use his tactical visor, and Angela didn’t use the full extent of her abilities,” Winston finishes, effectively shutting down the argument before it can begin. “Let’s go to the mess hall, shall we?”  
  
“Is that where Reinhardt and Torbjörn went?” Winston nods and Tracer whoops. “Bratwürste! I’ve been dreaming of them for years!”  
  
Hana, after a moment’s consideration, hops back into her mech before tromping after everyone else. 76 falls into step with her, as does Dr. Ziegler, who simply informs Hana that her examination yesterday proved that she was in good health before flitting after McCree, and then Winston somehow squeezes in next to them and asks, “How are you settling in?”  
  
“A computer would be nice,” Hana says immediately, eliciting a sigh from 76.  
  
“I did manage to procure two of them for you,” Winston says with a smile. “Swing by the conference room with me after lunch. But other than that, everything is good?”  
  
“Rooms are good,” 76 says, Hana humming agreement. “Wasn’t expecting our own showers, to be honest.”  
  
Winston winces. “We used to have locker rooms, but that was before the, er, incident, back in Overwatch’s heyday.” Hana burns with curiosity; she’ll interrogate 76 later. “Athena and I had some construction drones fit the rooms with showers shortly after I sent out the recall message, just to save us some grief.”  
  
“You can just build in plumbing systems whenever you want?” Hana asks, eyes widening as possibilities begin to expand in her mind. “So you could change the color of my room?”  
  
“Well, it took almost two full days of working, which is the beauty of drones,” Winston says, laughing, “And there were some mishaps before you two came along. We worked out the kinks, though, after Lena got here.” There’s a story there, and Hana makes a mental note to ask Tracer about it. “As for the color change - that would involve taking out your carpet and repainting the walls. Do you not like your room?”  
  
“It is wonderful,” Hana reassures him, “But I like pink better than blue. As you can likely tell from my MEKA.”  
  
A few more moments of conversation, during which Athena joins in from the ceiling and Winston confirms the construction bots can probably finish changing the color scheme of her room during the next mission, and Hana smiles delightedly. She can tell 76 is more than ambivalent about it all - not that he would ever say it to her face, but she’s sure he finds the whole thing shallow and pointless - but considering that’s where she’s going to be streaming, she wants it to be a place she really likes. Blue just doesn’t cut it.  
  
Lunch is bratwürste, as Tracer had predicted, and by the time Hana slips out of her mech and into a spot next to 76, the pilot has already stuffed her mouth full, somehow continuing to talk animatedly to another woman who introduces herself as Brigitte, Reinhardt’s mechanic. Reinhardt himself is nowhere to be seen, but Hana can hear his booming voice from the kitchen, occasionally joined by Torbjörn’s gruff laughter, and everyone else is already digging in by the time Reinhardt himself shows and sets a plate in front of her. He does it with enough force that the entire table shakes, but no one seems to notice.  
  
“Try updog!” he declares, giving Hana a hearty pat that makes her wheeze. “It will make you bigger!”  
  
Hana frowns, staring at her plate, before looking up at Reinhardt again. She’s… not sure if she’s missing a cultural cue here? Is that what they call bratwursts in German - but wait, isn't ‘bratwurst’ a German word? “What’s updog?”  
  
The collective table groans, 76 included. Reinhardt, meanwhile, starts laughing so hard Hana thinks he’s going to suffocate. Torbjörn, from the kitchen, guffaws. Hana furrows her brow as she considers what she just said, but it seemed like a legitimate question - is there a wordplay she missed? The man is aware that English isn’t her first language, right?  
  
“It’s - ” and here 76 lets out a long-suffering sigh - “It’s a joke. People used to say ‘what’s up, dog’ to friends. That’s the joke.”  
  
All of her time in chatrooms and Hana had never once encountered the phrase. Then again, many of the chatrooms she has been in use Korean, and when she had acted in a movie a year or so back, the English-speaking employees had always addressed her stiffly as ‘Ms. Song’ and never greeted her informally. She supposes she doesn’t have the best grasp of English slang yet and glances around the table.  
  
“Does he do this to everybody?” she asks. She’s answered in more groans while Reinhardt, having recovered his composure slightly and reduced to only chuckles, is set off again. By this time, Torbjörn is close enough to catch the question and joins his friend in laughter.  
  
“They get worse,” Brigitte informs her gravely.  
  
“No,” Hana says incredulously.  
  
“Yes,” Dr. Ziegler intones, with the air of someone who has Seen Some Shit. There’s a moment of silence - Hana suspects it is likely for something related to terrible jokes that happened in the past, so she doesn’t interrupt, merely taking a bite of a bratwurst with a stab of sauerkraut and a shred of bread. Afterwards, the doctor says in an exasperated voice, “Another thing Reinhardt should consider retiring.”  
  
“No appreciation for the classics!” Reinhardt nearabout roars, completely unperturbed as he stabs into his own bratwurst. It’s a bit violent, not nearly as bad as Dr. Ziegler but still pretty exciting, and soon Torbjörn chimes in agreement and it dissolves into a friendly not-quite argument that consumes the whole table, save Hana and 76. She’s content to listen, eating quietly with 76 solid and sure at her side.  
  
Then she hears Athena’s voice, artificial and calm, and everyone stills as she says, “I am sorry to interrupt, but we have two unidentified figures approaching from the cliffs. It might be prudent to greet them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoooo could it beeeee?? virtual high-five for anyone who guesses correctly! (it's really not that hard though. i have faith in all y'all.)
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- hana hates clothes shopping  
> \- tracer is the person you never take clothes shopping with you because she hems and haws over the underwear for at least a half-hour, regardless of who her travel companion is  
> \- mccree orders his clothes online. his cowboy gear has to be genuine, y'all  
> \- jack and gabe used to go shopping together because they knew what the other looked good in but not so much themselves. it was a good system  
> \- this is why 76 and reaper have terrible clothing choices in the present day  
> \- mercy goes in knowing exactly what she's looking for and, if she doesn't find it, she goes to the next store until she does (or something similar)  
> \- reinhardt has to get his clothes custom-made because he's a freaking behemoth  
> \- so does torbjörn, for the opposite reason (or he shops in the junior section)  
> \- winston and clothes to do not get along. mostly he just wears the thing he would normally wear under his armor. saves everyone a lot of trouble


	29. if someone gave me a set of coordinates i wouldn't know what to do with it, honestly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out it's not an emergency. Actually, it's quite the opposite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOR EVERYONE WHO GUESSED GENJI AND ZENNY:  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> better luck next time for everyone else c: (there is really only one other pair of kiddos who could show up, though.)
> 
> have a wonderful day today!! <3

The reaction is immediate: everyone stuffs one last bite in before rising and racing out towards the coordinates Athena is rattling at them from above, 76 waiting for Hana to get into her mech before taking off at a dead sprint, Hana activating her rocket boosters to keep up, everyone else either instinctively getting out of their way. For all of their squabbling, these people know how to work together, and now it’s up to Hana to figure out how to fit herself in their well-oiled machine.

On the plus side, Hana thinks with no small sense of glee, she and 76 are easily the fastest people in Overwatch (if one discounted Tracer's blinking), a fact that is further proved when Dr. Ziegler occasionally flits up to 76 to stay close to the main group. Pretty soon they’ve pulled quite a bit further ahead than everyone else, and they are thus the first to arrive at the coordinates whereupon they both stop and wait and watch the two approaching figures hold their arms up in a pacifying gesture.

“Do you recognize them?” Hana asks in their temporary privacy, squinting. The strangers have scaled the cliffs somehow, or they went down the cliffs, whatever the word is, and all she can see is glowing green from one of them while the other floats in midair. Their profiles look distinctly omnic, hard edges where it should be soft and curves where it should be sharp.

“Recognize the one on the left,” 76 says. The red glow of his visor has thinned out and she realizes a moment later it must have zoomed in for him; she quickly adjusts her MEKA to do the same for her, but she still doesn’t recognize the two omnics approaching. She’s not too good at identifying omnic models from each other, anyway. “Green guy is Genji Shimada. He was in Overwatch before.”

“He is not like any omnic I have ever seen.”

“He’s not fully omnic.” He doesn’t need to turn his head to see her give him a look. “It’s complicated. Ask Angela when you can.”

“Fine.” She will let it go for now. “What about the other one?”

“Couldn't say. Same model as Mondatta.” She knows who that was, at least, and now she can see the resemblance. “Couldn’t begin to guess what their agenda is. Genji I remember was angry all the time, especially at Overwatch itself. Surprised he came back willingly.”

“We will have to wait and see.”

“Guess so.”

At this point Dr. Zeigler flies up to 76, and she settles on the ground with a few quick steps before pausing and saying, “Is that Genji?”

“Who?” 76 says without missing a beat. Well, there’s a reason he hasn’t been found out yet, Hana supposes.

As it is, Dr. Ziegler doesn’t answer, instead replacing her staff to her back and deactivating most features of her Valkyrie suit. Presumably Genji and his friend put their arms down as she walks forward, and once they meet about halfway they confer in low voices, too low for Hana’s mech to catch despite her tuning its sensors in their direction. Either out of respect or kindness neither she nor 76 get any closer, and the rest of the team, when they catch up, follow their lead; they don’t have to wait long, though, before Dr. Ziegler’s leading Genji and friend towards them, and she’s smiling, which is a good sign.

“Genji!” Tracer shouts, and Hana hears Genji grunt when, one blink later, he’s been tackled to the ground. His voice is recognizable as human but it sounds mechanical, whirring in the back of his throat, and when he laughs, it’s just a bit robotic. “You made it!”

“Yes,” he says in response, definitely accented. Hana pinpoints it immediately as Japanese, though his name had given that away early on. “It was a bit of a hike.” His head turns to focus a green slit on the gathered members of Overwatch once he is standing, each showing varying degrees of excitement, and he remarks, “Seems we are a bit slow to the party.”

“In no small part due to lack of speed,” the omnic next to him says. Something in his voice makes Hana think of hands on her shoulders and the warmth of being inside her mech, strangely calming but so very artificial. “My apologies.”

… She hears a huff behind her. When she activates her rear-facing cameras, she sees Torbjörn stomping off towards the mess hall again, grumbling under his breath; she doesn’t know the man very well and can’t recall much from her history textbook, so she’ll probably have to ask someone about it later. Add that to the list of things that need to be squared away, she thinks dryly.

“This is a surprise,” Winston says, lumbering over to the two, Tracer and Dr. Ziegler stepping aside. “You should’ve comm’d, Genji - we would have prepared a bit more of a formal welcome than this.”

“I do not mind,” Genji assures him, before adding a little bashfully, “I may have broken the comm by accident.” The omnic beside him lets out a gentle chuckle and Genji ducks his head.

“Either way, it is good to see you, Genji!” Reinhardt says as Winston sighs, exasperated but fond.

“Been quite some time,” McCree agrees, tipping his hat towards them. “Who’s yer friend?”

“Ah, yes. Master, these are my former teammates.” Genji points to each in turn. “You’ve met Angela already, but this is Lena, Winston, Reinhardt, and McCree. Overwatch, this is Zenyatta, a Shambali monk from Nepal.”

“Peace be with you,” Zenyatta says, receiving nods and the phrase repeated back to him before turning to Hana. “You did not introduce these two.”

“D.Va,” Hana says with a smile, quickly slipping out from her mech to allow the two newcomers to see her. “It is wonderful to meet you.”

“Soldier: Seventy-six,” 76 says with a curt nod. He’s watching Genji closely, likely because Genji is still staring Hana down for some reason, as Zenyatta greets them both with a regal nod and a murmured _peace be with you_.

“Genji Shimada,” the cyborg says, sketching a short bow, one that Hana instinctively copies, and that is that.

Seeing as this is a team of people who regularly do rigorous work, the focus soon turns back to the food that had been abandoned back in the mess hall, and quickly the whole group begins to migrate back that way through the Watchpoint. Hana is surprised when Genji chooses to walk alongside her and her stomping MEKA, and 76, out of politeness she would guess, pulls ahead to speak with Zenyatta.

“I am sorry if this may seem intrusive,” Genji says, “But you are the same D.Va who plays _Starcraft_ , yes?”

“Yes,” she says with a grin. “You have heard of me?”

“I was afraid you had died,” he says frankly, and she frowns sharply as he points out, “You haven’t streamed in over a month. Your fan blog has received more traffic in the past week than it has in its entire lifetime.”

“I was worried about that,” she says with a sigh, “But I will have a computer soon. Once I can get some equipment, I can assure everyone that I am still alive.” Then she realizes something and she feels her lips curl upward as she says, “You watch my streams?”

“I have ever since you started making waves in the _Starcraft_ community,” Genji says, with a seriousness that makes her laugh. “May I have your autograph?”

It doesn’t seem like a good time to indulge a fan, but at the same time, when will it ever be a good time, now that she’s here? “Of course,” she says with a widening smile, and though she can’t see his face, she’s sure he’s smiling as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> frankly i am looking forward to zenyatta trolling people. he and reinhardt will be good friends i think!
> 
> also i apologize for how long the headcanons got. i can be a little wordy sometimes :c
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- genji and hana are so far apart in age but they get along because gaaaaaaames. once they become better friends the typical greeting is 'git gud'  
> \- zenyatta is the bro that you can tell all of your problems to. he's an excellent listener and has great advice. you do not want to get into a philosophical debate with him because he will crush you (as good listeners often can and do). however, he is also only one year older than hana, so they bond because they're both young  
> \- to be fair, omnics probably age mentally much more quickly because their computing processes are faster than a human's - though that brings up the whole debate of how AI is developed in overwatch, given that machines today cannot even begin to compete with the speed that synapses fire in the human brain. it should also be noted that the only AI that can actually work for/against humans are the so-called 'god AIs' which is a completely different can of worms, given most omnics are their own individual person (according to shambali monks at least), so it's unlikely omnics 'grow up' faster than humans  
> \- however: omnics are in bodies they will have for the rest of their lives as soon as they are 'born', meaning they probably immediately view the world around them as a fully-grown adult would - skipping the child period of life that is essential for human development. (they would still have to figure things out, and it would be hysterical because it's not a child who's doing it but a fully-matured robot (however a robot can be 'fully-matured'), but i digress.) given omnics get a jump-start on life and how to analyze the world around them that humans do not have, zenyatta has pretty much two _decades_ of experience on hana.  
>  \- not to mention that omnics can live so much longer than humans, though given omnic-human relations in overwatch canon, we don't know that for sure because omnics keep getting killed. (bastion doesn't count because it had been asleep, not active.)  
> \- ol' torby hates omnics, of course. he's marginally better behaved around genji because the guy still has human features under his mask and used to be human, but regardless, he hates omnics  
> \- reinhardt is colorblind (red-green)  
> \- 76 is fascinated with music boxes. they are so cool. he used to collect the more interesting ones when he was jack, which made his office pretty fun to look around c:  
> \- mccree's favorite freezie/ice pop/chihiro/potong/ice candy flavor is the purple one. he hates the taste of artificial cherry  
> \- mercy uses pen only. no pencils. she doesn't make mistakes, though when she does, it's colossal (see: reaper)  
> \- tracer will never stop blaming herself for mondatta's death


	30. justice is defined by the hand that holds it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana talks with a couple of omnics, and also some others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this got a bit longer than i predicted, so... happy birthday! or... maybe happy gift day? hm. lucky you day?? who knows. i hope you had a great day regardless! <3 (the next chapter is even longer ;-;)
> 
> [chapter title comes from the line zenny says after eliminating pharah or mccree]

Lunch finishes up easily given Genji and Zenyatta both politely decline the option of food, and Hana is more than delighted to find that Genji is well-versed in video games, though his tastes are a bit more rustic, given he has almost twenty years on her. She doesn’t miss how people watch her as she and the cyborg chatter animatedly at each other; this is the most she’s spoken in the past month, the most anyone’s heard her say since she’s arrived here just a few days ago. Still, she and Genji quickly leave everyone behind with their fast-paced gamer lingo, and soon even 76 loses most interest and listens instead to the enthralling discussion of whether yellow peaches are better or worse than white ones.  
  
(Meanwhile, Dr. Ziegler puts her head in her hands.)  
  
It’s also helpful because Genji and Tracer are longtime friends - impossible not to be when they’ve fought side-by-side, when they’ve saved each other’s lives, when they’ve watched each other’s backs as only the two fastest and most lethal members of Blackwatch can - which means Hana gets to know Tracer a bit better. Indeed, she is regaled with stories of how the two of them, taking point at Reyes’ order, would disappear for minutes at a time, only to reappear with blood on Genji’s sword and a feral smile on Tracer’s face; it’s interesting in a morbid way, and it gives Hana an opportunity to describe her own missions on her MEKA squad, though she omits any and all missions that involved shooting down actual, live people.  
  
“It is an unfortunate fact that peace is often achieved through violent means,” Genji says at some point, hands folded neatly in front of him on the table. He is deathly still in a way only omnics can be, though the gestures he has made while speaking are humanlike in nature; it’s interesting to see how a conglomeration of the two leads to something distinctly different from both, yet so eerily similar. “Both Overwatch and Blackwatch were proof of that.”  
  
Tracer tilts her head, comically childlike, and for the first time since meeting her, Hana has to wonder just how much brutality her bright smile hides. “S’that what Zenyatta thinks? Seems a bit contrary.”  
  
“I believe we can achieve harmony with humanity if we speak to them and allow them to see that omnics do not mean harm,” Zenyatta says out of nowhere; apparently he too is no longer interested in the great peach debate, and Hana had noted his change in position when it had happened - he is now floating over the table, just a centimeter or two above its surface - but he had remained so quiet she hadn’t expected him to speak.  
  
“I feel that would not be possible in some areas,” Hana says, thinking of South Korea, thinking of how the giant omnic in the sea destroyed lives, destroyed people’s faith in their robotic compatriots, destroyed everything Hana had once held to be true. She agrees with Genji; she is young, sure, but like she constantly tells 76, she is no child and no innocent in the face of war.  
  
“In present circumstances, it _is_ possible, if one tries,” Zenyatta says, with the serenity of someone who knows what they are talking about, somehow not condescending but terribly, awfully close.  
  
“He is very stubborn,” Genji explains, a bit unnecessarily. If Hana could see his face, she’s sure his lips would be twisted into a wry smile. “You have him to thank for my mellowness, Lena.”  
  
“I was wondering about that,” Tracer says with an arched brow. “Before, it was all ‘honor’ and ‘stupid brother' and 'I am a living weapon’ and ‘raugh’!” She accompanies this with her arms and hands in the air, flexing her fingers as though she is a giant cat and they are claws. It makes Genji laugh and several lights on Zenyatta’s head to glow, something Hana tucks away in her memory. “I’m surprised! Pleased, don’t get me wrong, but surprised. Thought you’d gone to off your brother, but Winston says Hanzo’s still alive and kickin’.”  
  
“I have forgiven him,” Genji says, and Hana has no idea what’s going on but she thinks she is missing a vital piece of information somewhere. “He had no choice, and even if he had let me live, I believe Talon would have found me eventually. It is not ideal, but in some ways, I am grateful for what has happened.”  
  
Tracer stands and zips around the table until she can settle her arms around Genji in a loose hug, smushing her cheek against where his would be. It looks like it hurts her a little bit, and Genji makes a show of trying to escape until Tracer knocks the side of his head and he laughs. “I’m proud of ya, Genj! Still pissed off at Hanzo, though.”  
  
“I hate him, too,” McCree calls, briefly breaking off from his tirade against white peaches before being promptly drawn in when Reinhardt takes the opportunity to start talking again.  
  
“It is unnecessary, Jesse,” Genji calls back, to which McCree flaps a dismissive hand and Tracer chuckles. She’s already back in her seat, and Genji turns back to her. “My master had no small role in showing me how to be who I am now. He is the one who found me and consoled me when I was wandering, conflicted and confused.”  
  
“Chaos and harmony must exist in equal balance for tranquility,” Zenyatta says with a marginal tilt of his head. It seems like he’s staring right at Hana, and suddenly she’s forced her mind away from blood and frozen snow and 76 slipping and towards the empty plate now in front of her. He doesn’t need to know about her mental battles, the ones she fights when she’s alone and it’s dark.  
  
“Genji mentioned you were a Shimbali monk?” Tracer says, thankfully, all attention now on the floating omnic. She doesn’t wait for a response before her smile drops and she says, “I really looked up to Mondatta. I’m sorry I couldn’t save him.”  
  
“The world is less for his passing; I miss him greatly,” Zenyatta says, before his faceplate turns away Hana’s face and instead regards Tracer’s. “But it is not your fault he has left us.”  
  
Tracer’s grin is thin-lipped and tight. She has her own mental battles, Hana thinks, and Zenyatta lets it go. “D.Va,” 76 says quietly, as if on cue, and Hana looks over to see Winston standing by one of the exits of the mess, waving them over. She nods and 76 stands, her following suit as she looks towards her eating companions.  
  
“It was an honor to meet you both,” she says with a smile, settling her plate on top of 76’s and sliding it towards Tracer when the woman offers a hand. “I look forward to speaking to you in the future.”  
  
“As am I,” Zenyatta says.  
  
“Me as well,” Genji says, before he briefly looks after 76 and asks, “Is Soldier your father?”  
  
“No,” Hana says, but she hesitates. He’s not her father, but he’s - something. She trusts him, and that’s not an easy thing to gain; she’s learned to keep her cards close to her chest. “It is… complicated. I will tell you the story later, if you would like.”  
  
“If you do not mind,” Genji says. Zenyatta doesn’t respond, but Tracer looks visibly interested.  
  
“Of course.” She gives them a slight wave before she trots over and catches up to 76, nudging him with a fist before falling into step beside him. He puts a hand on her shoulder and leaves it there, and then Winston’s chattering about something as they follow him to the conference room. Hana lets out a breath when they're out of sight from the mess, feeling as though she’s been picked apart on an examining table; socializing takes a lot out of her, and even though she loved talking to Genji, it’s something of a relief to be with 76 again.  
  
Winston gives them both their computers, slim holotops with an extra processing unit and mouse for Hana (to which she tackles Winston in a hug, as best as a nineteen year-old girl can tackle a huge gorilla in a hug), and then she follows 76 past the mess hall and to their rooms, and then she comments, “Torbjörn did not seem keen to greet Genji or Zenyatta.”  
  
“He doesn’t like omnics,” 76 says. They’re outside of Hana’s room, paused by her question. “Never trusted them to begin with. Doesn’t help with what happened in Boklovo; Titan-class omnic almost destroyed the city,” he explains at her look.  
  
“Genji is not fully an omnic, though.”  
  
76 shrugs. “Still an omnic in his mind. Only Genji and Angela knows how much of him is organic, and she’s not keen on sharing.”  
  
Hana puffs out her cheeks, blowing air out so it whistles between her teeth. “I can understand his viewpoint,” she says after a moment, “But it still seems unfair. Mondatta was an international figure - even I knew about him. Would Torbjörn have killed him, had he the chance?”  
  
“Honestly? Yes.” Hana’s eyes widen briefly at the frankness of his voice before swinging her gaze to 76, who is fixing her with a steady, glowing red stare. “He always thought it was best to kill them before they stabbed you in the back. Could never make him change his mind. No reason to, at least during the Omnic Crisis.”  
  
She’s quiet for a while.  
  
“Should we warn Genji and Zenyatta?” she asks at last.  
  
“Genji already knows,” 76 says with a tilt of his head. “Blackwatch, remember - him and Tracer and McCree. They’ll watch out for each other. Always have.”  
  
“Torbjörn seemed nice,” Hana says, still perturbed.  
  
“What is it they say - ‘hate the sin, love the sinner’?” 76 sighs. “Can’t deny his abilities, Hana. Can’t deny his character. He means well, but justice is defined by the hand that holds it.”  
  
He’s right. It doesn’t make her feel better, and eventually she just shakes her head and says, “If anyone needs me, I will be informing my fans that I am not dead.”  
  
“Acknowledged,” 76 says, before patting her on the shoulder again and saying, “We all have our flaws. You and I both know this. At some point, you’ll have to accept him for who he is, if we want Overwatch to operate as a team.”  
  
“Yeah, okay, dad,” she says with a smile, and he laughs quietly before he goes to the neighboring door. She doesn’t wait for him to enter before slipping into her own room, sweeping Tracer’s borrowed clothes off of her desk’s surface (and she’s given up on shopping - she’s just going to order online after this) and setting up her holotop with the processing core and the mouse. Minutes later she’s downloaded the systems and applications she’ll need to stream and, soon enough -  
  
“D.Va online,” she says with a grin, giving the camera a cheeky wave. The chatbox explodes; she watches it with something like glee. “Did you all miss me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> torbjörn gives me ample opportunity to analyze how harmful bias and stereotypes can be to those different from you, though it is not my intention to make this fic an outlet for social commentary. however, as a liberal who will gladly engage with anyone in an argument regarding present social issues, you might see more of it bleed into this fic - and i apologize in advance. (even the phrase 'hate the sin, love the sinner' made me uncomfortable, given how often it's used in relation to LGBTQA+ people.)
> 
> anyway! i have come to the realization that while i have a good idea about how the other members of overwatch will eventually be collected, i have no idea how i will get widowmaker and reaper into the mix. they're both so entrenched in talon that it seems - i don't know, how could i make it realistic with so little knowledge of how talon is organized? do they have cells that are all separate pockets around the world? are they organized by region? are they based in one place, like overwatch, and sent where they need to go? is there leader a single entity or a council or something else? honestly i have no idea. 
> 
> but if you have some ideas, you should let me know! c: i might just use your idea as inspiration!
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- mccree _hates_ country music, despite all expectations. he's actually big on trashy pop  
>  \- reinhardt was definitely that kid that listened to my chemical romance and twenty-one pilots and panic! at the disco and such  
> \- tracer loves classical music. her favorite composer is mozart  
> \- mercy listens to heavy metal when she's working, trashy pop when she's not. she and mccree have done karaoke duets before and they are hella good at singing  
> \- torbjörn enjoys movie scores and video game scores, though he's probably never watched the movie or played the video game. john williams dominates his playlist, probably  
> \- hana loves kpop. any kpop. old kpop, new kpop, weird kpop, you name it, she's heard it  
> \- genji likes jpop, which means he and hana often exchange titles  
> \- zenyatta likes music with a strong bass, just because he can feel it in his circuits or whatever  
> \- since 76 has perfect pitch, he is extremely particular about his songs. the moment he detects that they are pitched/sped up he has to physically leave the room. typically he listens to alternative pop or, like, new age or something, idk  
> \- reaper likes country


	31. oh ye of so little faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a week passes and things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longer chapter for you!! happy monday! <33
> 
> also, a cool thing: i remembered how to program mouseover text, so just hover your li'l mouse over the text and it'll give you a translation to whatever it is that you're looking at! but i'm about ninety-nine percent sure it doesn't work on phones, so if you have questions, just let me know. c:

**Monday.**

“I will never get this,” Hana snarls, throwing the gun on the ground. It bounces and clatters but doesn’t break; it takes everything in her to resist stomping on it. “I hate it! Why can I not have something that helps me aim like you?”  
  
The worst thing about 76 is how unflappable he is. Instead of yelling at her to keep going, like her instructor back in Korea would’ve, he instead stoops down to pick up her gun, inspecting it for damage before going over to the table nearby in the range and placing it on its surface. “Snack break,” he says, motioning for her to sit down right where she’s standing, and she does so with an irritated huff of air, accepting the baggie with what appears to be cut strawberries in it from him without paying much attention. She pops one into her mouth as he settles down across from her.  
  
“Sometimes people shoot better when they’re angry,” he offers after a moment. His voice is low so that Reinhardt, Mercy, and Brigitte, inspecting Reinhardt and Reinhardt's armor, respectively, can't hear him. “Had a recruit like that once; shot just like you when xe first came in.”  
  
“So what,” Hana grumbles, morosely biting into a particularly large strawberry.  
  
“You ever taken that thing apart?”  
  
“No,” Hana snaps, affronted. She would break it if she did that.  
  
“Neither had xe. Once xe had, xe started shooting better. You know why?”  
  
“Obviously you’re going to tell me.”  
  
The look he gives her, even through his visor, is long-suffering, incredibly, _infuriatingly_ patient. “You have to know your gun before you can learn to shoot well.”  
  
That is the stupidest thing she’s ever heard. She opens her mouth to say it out loud - only to yelp when he reaches over and puts a strawberry between her teeth instead.  
  
“You flinch just a bit whenever you pull the trigger of that thing,” 76 says, finally giving out his critique. “You’re afraid of it. You can’t be afraid of it if you want to shoot well.”  
  
She chews and swallows. She wants to yell that there’s no way he could know that, but that’s dumb because of course he does. She wants to complain that there’s no way he could know how she feels, but that’s unrealistic because he’s a soldier, through and through. She wants to ask why, _why_ her handlers back in Korea had never noticed but he, in the time it took her to blink, had seen it. In the end she sulks, which is the better option but somehow still made worse by the fact that 76 doesn’t rub it in her face or otherwise make her feel bad for realizing that on her own.  
  
“It is supposed to be an extension of my arm,” Hana mutters after a while. Her baggie is almost empty now, and she munches on a last strawberry as she recalls 76’s smooth movements with his rifle - casually swinging it over his shoulder, hooking it under one arm, bracing it against himself as he shoots it. He’s right, as he’s wont to be.  
  
76 reaches out to put a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll get there.”  
  
She believes him, more than she believes in herself - so when he stands, so does she.

* * *

**Tuesday.**

“I know I have been gone for a long time,” Hana says, leaning forward towards the camera. This time she’d taken a bit to actually put some makeup on and look the part; once her clothes and equipment arrive and are picked up from the nearby town, she’ll be able to really get into it, but for now this will have to do. “I am sorry for that, as I said the last time I was online.”  
  
She smiles and leans a hand on her chin. “Regardless, I will answer your questions as best as I can. Ask away.”  
  
Her moderators had quickly come out of the shadows upon her return and, as always, they are ruthlessly efficient to sorting out the stupid questions from the legitimate ones. The first one they present to her is short and to the point, but it still makes Hana hesitate: _why didn’t you tell us you weren’t dead in the last month?_  
  
“There are a variety of reasons as to why,” Hana says after a moment; “Unfortunately, I am not in a position to divulge many of them, but I will tell you what I can. I had no access to wifi, as you might have guessed; no, not even from my mech,” she says, seeing the question pop up in the chatbox, “Given I could have been tracked that way. I had a cell phone on me, but I disposed of it as a safety precaution. It was safer for me to go dark.”  
  
_Why do you not want to be tracked?_  
  
“If you do not already know, I have deserted the Korean army,” Hana says with a small, grim smile. The chatbox pounces on this information immediately and she is sure tabloids in Korea will carry both the audio recording and a transcript of this in mere hours. “I could be convicted of treason, should I ever return or should Korean agents ever find me. You understand my caution.”  
  
_Why did you desert?_  
  
“I cannot tell you. I am sorry.”  
  
_Why not?_  
  
“For my own security,” Hana says. “I really am sorry, but you will not get any more answers even if you continue this line of questions.”  
  
Her viewers don’t listen, predictably, instead continue to pepper the chatbox with questions she refuses to answer. Her moderators do the best they can but it’s pretty clear that they’re a bit overwhelmed, and Hana sighs when she says, “I apologize, but I have to leave. I will be answering questions on the blog; this is a little too chaotic. _Annyeong_.”  
  
(Later, she’ll be confused when Genji comes up to apologize - and then he’ll reveal that he’s one of her moderators. It’s little wonder why they always worked so fast, she realizes belatedly, and Genji lets out a small, startled yelp when she hugs him tightly.)

* * *

**Wednesday.**

Hana hits the center of the target once and almost drops her gun in shock. Then she’s dropped her gun anyway and is jumping up and down and smiling, shouting, “I did it!”  
  
She calls enough attention to herself that McCree and Genji, recently arrived at the training range, come over to view her handiwork. She knows it’s such a little thing to be proud of, but she’s been practicing a lot whenever she can, even when 76 isn’t around to help her out like today - and to think she did it all on her own! She laughs delightedly when Genji gives her a bone-crushing hug and McCree slaps his hat on her head.  
  
“Soon you’ll be shootin’ like a pro, darlin’,” McCree says, grinning as Hana tucks his hat more securely on her head. It’s too big, predictably, but it’s comfortable, like a blanket around her shoulders on cold days. “Reckon you’ll be doin’ a lot better now that you've gotten a good shot in, too. Does Soldier know?”  
  
She shakes her head and laughs again when Genji steals McCree’s hat from her, holding it out of her reach as they race around the small open area of the traning range while McCree raises 76 on comm. It’s going to be a good rest of the day, she thinks, and decides that maybe she’ll relieve Winston of lunch duty just because she’s feeling so good.

* * *

**Thursday.**

“It’s,” and here Reinhardt pauses conspiratorially, “For a friend.”  
  
“Sure!” Hana reaches out for the small slip of paper and pen, scribbling out a brief salutation in Korean before writing _love, D.Va_ underneath. She hands it back to him and doesn’t miss how he clutches it close; _for a friend, indeed,_ and she smiles a sly smile, and then she hears herself saying, “You should join us and Genji today! We are having a gaming night.”  
  
“What kind of games?” Reinhardt asks.  
  
“We are not sure yet - anything we can torrent off of the wifi, probably.”  
  
“ _Diner Dash is available,”_ Genji says over comm; he’s already hooking up the holoprojector in the now-not-nearly-as-empty lounge. “ _The original version from the early two-thousands, brushed up to HD._ ”  
  
“That is one-player,” Hana says with a frown.  
  
“ _If we play hardcore mode, we can switch off each time someone fails a level._ ”  
  
“You’re on.” She gives Reinhardt a smile. “The offer stands.”  
  
“ _Git gud, old man,_ ” Genji says; Hana can hear the devilish grin, the undisguised provocation.  
  
It works. “I will crush you both!” Reinhardt announces, and Hana can only shake her head with a malevolent smile.

* * *

**Friday.**

“Is there a reason I passed by Reinhardt’s room today and heard him crying and muttering about a meme war?”  
  
Zenyatta regards 76 with an unreadable expression. Then again, his face never changes expressions, so that’s nothing new.  
  
“No,” the monk says.  
  
76 eyes him for a moment longer. Hana, at his side, is snickering loudly.

“It better not come to blows, and don’t let it happen in the mess,” 76 says at last.  
  
“You are not the leader here, yes? I will do as I please.”  
  
Hana whispers _oh snap_  and gives Zenyatta a high-five. 76 just shakes his head and keeps walking, knowing she would eventually catch up.

* * *

**Saturday.**

“How are you settling in, Hana?” Dr. Ziegler asks, seating herself from across Hana as she speaks. Hana looks up from her handheld and puts it aside, pausing her game as she does so; she has a feeling this discussion is going to involve her full attention, as it always does. Dr. Ziegler misses very little and there’s a lot Hana wants to hide.  
  
“Good,” Hana says in response to the question. “It was a little disorienting at first, but I think I am beginning to find my way around.”  
  
“Excellent.”  
  
Dr. Ziegler’s stare is piercing. Hana meets her eyes as squarely as she dares, which turns out to be for a few seconds before she looks down at her folded hands. No one can out-intimidate Angela Ziegler on a mission, according to 76, and so she figures she should quit while she’s ahead.  
  
“As a doctor, it is my duty to do my best for my patients,” Dr. Ziegler says after a moment. She leans forward in her chair, propping her chin in her hand, her elbow on her knee. “It’s not my place to force you to talk about something you do not want to. But - ” and here her eyes briefly flick away from Hana’s face - “I could not help but notice your aversion to blood.”  
  
Hana frowns. “I do not know anyone who would not try to avoid it.”  
  
“You freeze up when you see it,” Dr. Ziegler explains, quietly. “Briefly. Enough that you are vulnerable, if only for a few moments. I thought perhaps it might have to do with...”  
  
She trails off when Hana grabs her handheld and gets to her feet, yet Dr. Ziegler merely continues to watch her with a patience that makes Hana's chest coil hot and tight in anger.  
  
“You are not alone, you know,” Dr. Ziegler says as Hana goes, and Hana does not answer.

* * *

**Sunday**.

Sent at 18.34  
Lúcio Correia dos Santos  
yo d.va!  
i know this is kind of out of the blue but it seemed as good a time as any to introduce myself.  
seeing as you’ve come back from the dead and all?  
anyway i'm lúcio and this is just me asking for your autograph.  
i’m a huge fan! have been for a while now :)  
if you can’t i totally get it. being a celebrity is pretty time-consuming…  
hoping we can talk soon! later!

D.Va  
oh my gosh, is this actually lúcio???  
as in lúcio who made synaesthesia auditiva?????  
please tell me you are not trolling me because that gets old really fast  
Seen at 20.16

Sent at 20.17  
Lúcio Correia dos Santos  
lmao i know that feel.  
but yep! i’m the real deal!

D.Va  
세상에  
i think i am hyperventilating  
i am sorry i am just a HUGE fan of your latest album i have been listening to it nonstop since i got it the other day  
i promise i usually have more chill than this 이런 젠장  
anyway  
you can have my autograph if i get yours? :3c  
Seen at 20.17

[You have added Lúcio Correia dos Santos into your contacts as Lúcio!!!]

Sent at 20.18  
Lúcio!!!  
sounds like a plan to me! B)

“Why do you always twitch whenever I call you ‘dad’?” Hana asks, tucking her phone away with a smile on her face. “It is just a joke.”  
  
76, per usual, freezes up for a split second before resuming his task: dismantling his rifle and putting it back together again. He can do it in under a minute, and Hana, so far, can do the same thing to her handgun in about five.  
  
“Tracer used to call Jack ‘Commander Dad’ as a joke,” 76 says after a moment.  
  
Hana had been prepping for a jest, or a sarcastic remark - not brutal honesty, his voice scraping at the end like she’d just touched something painful. _Shi-bal_.  
  
“You are still a very good commander,” Hana says, remembering how quickly he had taken charge in Russia, how he had engaged Reaper to distract him from everyone else.  
  
“I failed them,” 76 says, slamming the last piece into the gun; Hana's not sure who 'them' entails, but she can guess. The rifle hums to life as he gives it a brief once-over, and then he hefts himself to his feet. He’s decidedly not looking at Hana as he says, “I wasn’t good enough.”  
  
Hana has nothing to say to that. She slips her handgun into her fingers and stands next to him, and, at his nod, she takes aim and fires five times in succession.  
  
Each bullet hits its mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cool thing: i remembered how to program mouseover text, so just hover your li'l mouse over the words/characters and you'll get a neat little translation! ... but i'm about ninety-nine percent sure it doesn't work on phones, so if you have questions, just let me know. c:
> 
> anyhoo - you know, this is the first chapter with a section where two women talk to each other without once mentioning a man. weird, ain't it? i really should fix that, but considering overwatch has more men than women in it - with both the current in-game roster and also this fic - it's hard to pin down when and how these conversations would happen. still. makes me a bit uneasy, so hopefully i'll find more ways to incorporate sections like it in the future c:
> 
> also: i have no idea what kind of messaging service hana and lúcio are using. probably some futuristic form of texting? i like putting color in though! that was fun and also a lot of html programming and thereby a lot of trial and error. ah, well.
> 
> also also: can i get a heck yes for darling precious lúcio?? <333
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- reinhardt can own anyone's ass at mario kart  
> \- if hana read newspapers, she'd start at the front headlines and work her way from there to the business section, then go to the regional/local section, then to the comics. then she'd peruse the ads and she'd skip the sports section altogether  
> \- mercy and genji have a solid working relationship, but in terms of personal relationship, it's been a bit rocky. it's better now that genji is at peace with himself, but some tiny little part of him still resents her, despite everything  
> \- tracer is an INTJ  
> \- 76 can't handle spicy foods without copious amounts of yogurt nearby  
> \- someone once asked mccree about the meanings behind flowers as a joke. turns out mccree knows a lot of shit about flowers, enough to talk about it for hours if you get him going  
> \- zenyatta is extremely good at juggling  
> \- winston's favorite day of the week is wednesday  
> \- torby will defend ikea to death


	32. tell us how you really feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana asks the team for a favor, after Lúcio asks her for a favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so i'm just saying, i'm american and i was watching the olympics a couple of days ago and can i just scream about our women's gymnastics team?? holy moly. those girls are impressive!!
> 
> i hope you all have wonderful days today!

D.Va   
no i am being completely serious  
he is literally a cowboy it is the greatest thing  
Seen at 07.41

Sent at 07.41  
Lúcio!!!  
there’s no way that’s true.

D.Va  
hang on let me go get a picture

[You have sent  Lúcio!!!  a file: jessemccreeatyourservice.jpg at 07.41]

D.Va  
trust me just open it  
Seen at 07.41

[Lúcio!!! has opened your file: jessemccreeatyourservice.jpg at 07.42]

Sent at 07.42  
Lúcio!!!  
puta merda.  
does he talk like a cowboy? that’s the real question.

D.Va  
YES IT IS THE BEST THING  
Seen at 07.42

Sent at 07.42  
Lúcio!!!  
is it though.  
is it actually.

D.Va  
ok maybe not  
but it is still funny sometimes!  
he insists on calling me ‘darling’ except he drops the ‘g’  
hm maybe it is actually a little bit annoying  
Seen at 07.42

Sent at 07.42  
Lúcio!!!  
aww. that’s kinda cute actually.

D.Va  
he is older than me!! it is a little weird!!  
Seen at 07.42

Sent at 07.43  
Lúcio!!!  
lmao you have a point.

D.Va  
but yeah everyone here is super nice  
i wish you could meet them  
Seen at 07.43

Sent at 07.43  
Lúcio!!!  
uh yeah. about that.  
actually i have a favor to ask.  
from your friends and stuff.

D.Va  
us?? i do not think we could do much to help  
Seen at 07.43

Sent at 07.43  
Lúcio!!!  
you’re all soldiers right? so you can help me out.  
because i need soldiers and fighters right about now.

D.Va  
???? you are making me worried  
Seen at 07.43

Sent at 07.43  
Lúcio!!!  
so you know that i’m famous because of what happened here in rio de janeiro right?  
with vishkar and all that.  
and you know that vishkar wasn’t happy with what happened.

D.Va  
of course! it was all over the news  
are you in trouble?? is vishkar going after you??  
Seen at 07.43

Sent at 07.44  
Lúcio!!!  
yep. beat me to the punch!  
they’re being subtle about it. i’ve almost been jumped two times this past week but managed to escape with a speed boost.  
i need someone to get me out of here and possibly keep vishkar from destroying any part of the city.  
kind of a tall order, but maybe you and your friends can help out?

D.Va  
that’s terrible!!  
i will ask right now  
Seen at 07.44

“Winston?”  
  
The table goes quiet at the sound of Hana’s voice - not soft or hesitant this time, but strong, full-bodied. This is D.Va speaking, somehow, even though Hana still feels the wobbliness in her being that tells her she’s not D.Va right now, and she swallows hard and takes some reassurance when 76 nudges his arm against his shoulder. Maybe she should’ve waited until after breakfast to ask Winston anything.  
  
“Yes, D.Va?” Winston says, tilting his head at her.  
  
“You know about Lúcio - er, Lúcio Correia dos Santos, right? In Rio de Janeiro.”  
  
“I have heard of him,” Winston says, pushing his glasses up. “He made quite a stir when he and Vishkar went head-to-head.”  
  
“Yes.” She gathers her thoughts for a few moments before deciding to just go for it. “I have been speaking with him recently through social media. He has just requested that we help him escape Brazil, as Vishkar has begun efforts to remove him.”  
  
Winston considers this for a few moments. The whole table does, in fact, and Hana tries not to show her nerves.

“Interesting that you should say that,” he says at last. “Vishkar Corp. has been lobbying to renew construction around that area. Lúcio must be countering it.”  
  
“Does he know you are part of Overwatch?” Torbjörn asks.  
  
“I am not entirely tactless; I have not told him.” Though he’s beginning to guess, she’s sure. She’s been careful to only talk about Blackwatch members, as the world knows very little about them - if she’d given him a picture of Reinhardt, her cover would have been blown just like that.  
  
“This might be an opportunity for us,” Dr. Ziegler interjects, food briefly forgotten. “I have been interested in investigating Vishkar for some time. There are rumors of human rights violations.”  
  
“I’ve always wanted to go to Rio,” Tracer adds, grinning.  
  
“Well, it’s unexpected, but no other agents who answered the recall have had any problems.” Winston gives a decisive nod. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t. If nothing else, Lúcio has some very interesting information about Vishkar and their sound tech.”  
  
There are general noises of agreement, and Hana’s about to return to her phone when 76 says, another surprise, “Some of us should stay back. Never know, something could go wrong.”  
  
“Besides Winston, you mean,” McCree says, and 76 nods. “I agree. I’m willin’ to hang around here, ‘less you think ya need me out there.”  
  
People stack their empty plates as they talk and it’s eventually decided: Hana, with Tracer, Torbjörn, 76, Zenyatta and Genji, will go to Rio de Janeiro, with McCree, Dr. Zeigler, Reinhardt and Winston staying behind. “Unfortunately, your team is stacked with more offense-oriented members,” the gorilla says, contemplative, “But it also leaves us well-balanced back here. Hana, Zenyatta, you’ll have your work cut out for you.”  
  
“Lúcio, once we find him, can heal us through ambient sound,” Hana says, glancing over at the omnic. “Hopefully, it will make your job a bit easier.”  
  
“I look forward to meeting him,” Zenyatta answers.  
  
“Then it’s settled,” Winston says. “I suppose we’re on a bit of a time squeeze here, so I’ll have Athena set up a plane for you to leave in, let’s say, an hour?”

D.Va  
we are moving out in an hour  
that soon enough for you?? >:3c  
Seen at 12.56

Sent at 12.56  
Lúcio!!!  
you have no idea how much relief hit me just now.  
you’re a lifesaver, d.va.

D.Va  
see you soon!!  
and you better have that autograph ready!!  
Seen at 12.56

Sent at 12.56  
Lúcio!!!  
honestly, i’d give you your own private concert for this.  
thanks so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that html shit almost killed me, dudes; i gave up halfway and gave the work an ao3 skin just to make my job easier. ooooh boy. but at least it's done! and lúcio is on his way!! c: (coincidentally, the html is why the chapter might seem a bit abrupt. sorry about that :c)
> 
> ALSO. YOU GUYS. I AM ON THE [TV TROPES PAGE FOR OVERWATCH FIC RECS](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/FanficRecs/Overwatch)???????? what the _fuck_. THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT FOR REALSIES  <333 i know i keep saying it bUT IT'S TRUE. i am so grateful!! (thank you to [Caelucere](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Caelucere) for letting me know!!)
> 
> oh, and a reminder that you can mouseover for translations, and you can always ask if you're on a phone!
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- the recalled overwatch would have failed without 76's intervention. there were no experienced leaders until he came around and definitely no experienced strike commanders  
> \- hana has played every single assassin's creed game to date  
> \- lúcio can parkour like no one's business. the wall-riding skates are just an extra bonus  
> \- genji and zenyatta are not usually together around base, as they can communicate non-verbally across long distances  
> \- makes you wonder if omnic pick-up lines include asking for your IP address c:  
> \- torby and rein spend a lot of time working on improving their respective weapons: rein can get upgrades to his shield based on how much torby's turret fire damages it, torby's turrets can get upgrades based on how much they damage rein's shield. it's a good system.  
> \- mccree's room is cluttered in an organized chaos sort of way, but he's very particular about smell so he has one of those febreze things  
> \- mercy and winston constantly think of each other as the mad scientist of the group. it's a debate that has transcended time and space: despite many votes, surveys and referendums, overwatch can never decide which is more mad scientist-y than the other  
> \- tracer once blinked to the top of a building, went back down and coaxed mccree, genji and ana to join her, blinked back up, had an impromptu picnic, and blinked back down in the time it took jack and gabe to finish arguing over whether who would go left and take a warehouse full of soldiers on, and who would go right and take on the highly-skilled commando team. after said picnic blackwatch and overwatch members split themselves in half and chose a side; this is the only mission jack and gabe had entirely no kills


	33. OPERATION: EXTRACT LÚCIO (part 1 of 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Overwatch details the plan, and hashes out some potential problems, before getting feet on the ground in Rio de Janeiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so it begins!
> 
> i just want to say that the u.s. women's gymnastics team is so awesome <3 i'm very happy for them!! and of course for michael phelps for defending his title. he used to be one of my biggest idols back when i was into competitive swimming c:
> 
> i hope you lovelies have a wonderful day today!

“So,” 76 says flatly to the group at large as they sit in the plane, Tracer at the helm, the rest scattered about in the cargo bay. The old soldier is on his feet; Hana is seated in the spot next to him, Genji on her left, Zenyatta floating around the cabin in a seemingly aimless manner, Torbjörn across from her. “Few things to address before we arrive in Rio.”

* * *

_“76 will be in charge of the operation,” Winston says in the conference room; he’d called a meeting thirty minutes before they left, just to go over what details he’d been able to dig up while those leaving prepared for departure. “He’s had the most experience with this kind of thing, and though some of us have been here for a long time, we've had little practice being in command. 76 has shown exceptional leadership skills; I trust him to lead the team well.”_

_No one voices a word in complaint, but Hana would have to be a fool to miss the uneasy tension that fills the room after Winston finishes speaking. It’s clear that while many agree with Winston’s observations, there’s still a feeling of uncertainty in having a newcomer in command, especially one that is strangely_ good _at it._

* * *

“Torbjörn,” 76 says, as if calling upon a random student in a classroom, and the Swede grunts in acknowledgement. “Are you going to be a problem going in?”

Torbjörn looks up from where he’s tinkering with his gun, again, and the pause that follows is, for lack of a better word, loaded.

“Meanin’?” Torbjörn answers at last. It comes out as a growl.

* * *

_“This is going to be fast - in and out. The primary goal is to extract Lúcio; secondary is to figure out why Vishkar is back in Rio and, if possible, the tertiary goal is to drive them away. Angela and Athena have been digging through everything they could find and there’s a reasonable amount of suspicion surrounding Vishkar movements, so any information you can find can help in that regard.”_

_“What kind of suspicion?” Reinhardt asks.  
_

_“Human rights violations, corporate espionage, destruction of public and private property,” Dr. Zielger says, listing them off by counting on her fingers, “Among others. What concerns me the most are the human rights violations; let's just say Vishkar has developed some very interesting sound-based technology.”  
_

_“If that’s the case, shouldn’t Angel be goin’ with them, not stayin’ here?” McCree asks._

_“No,” Dr. Ziegler says. She smiles a pretty little smile and says, “I’m not the one with a built-in computer.”_

* * *

“Cut the crap,” 76 says harshly. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“’Fraid I don’t,” Torbjörn says coolly. Hana shifts in her seat but doesn't say a peep when 76 shoots her a warning look over his shoulder; this is not her fight, and Genji places a hand on her shoulder as a silent reminder of that when her hands fist in her lap.

“Will you or will you not be a problem going in?”

* * *

_“Genji will be placing a bug to help Athena enter Vishkar’s network whenever and wherever possible.”_

_“How?” Genji says, poised delicately on his chair, in a way that makes Hana think of cobras coiled up before a strike. Zenyatta is in the room but is exploring the place instead of sitting at the table; currently, he is tilting his head at the equations scribbled all over a chalkboard._

_“It will be a simple process,” Winston assures him. “D.Va was able to get me in touch with Lúcio and he’s already developed a program to do what we need. All you need to do is upload it into any servers you can find. Communicators, tablets, computers, anything you find will suffice, and the more, the better.”_

_“Understood. Please send the program to me as soon as possible.”_

* * *

Torbjörn leans his elbows forward on his knees. He’s so short that he had to jump onto the chair and his legs dangle quite some distance over the ground, and Hana watches his face as his expression changes, considering all available answers.

“As long as they stay out of the way, I don’t care,” Torbjörn says at last, careless and short. Neither Zenyatta nor Genji show any outward reaction to the bite of his words.

“Zenyatta is our healer, Torbjörn, once we get into the thick of things,” 76 says. “If you’re going to have issues with this we have to address it now, before we get there.”

“I swear Angela stayed back to spite me,” Torbjörn grumbles.

“This isn’t about Mercy, it’s about the mission,” 76 says. There’s an edge to his voice; he’s losing his patience as he repeats once again, “Will there or will there not be a problem?”

* * *

_“Keep in mind that conflict is inevitable, so be wary,” Winston says. “You’ll be moving out in two groups of three. 76 will lead group one with Torbjörn and Tracer; Genji, you’re in charge of group two, with Hana and Zenyatta. Group one will leave five minutes before group two.”_

_“Why the staggering?” Tracer asks, frowning._

_“More mobility,” 76 answers before Winston can. “We’ll be in contact with Lúcio to determine his location. That will allow Torbjörn to set up in a place that will give you guys an advantage when you follow.”_

_“Hm.” Tracer leans back in her chair. “Guess I’m just used to going in guns blazing, but I trust your judgment, big guy.”_

* * *

“I’ll be keepin’ my eye on that one,” Torbjörn mutters. No one has to ask who ‘that one’ is.

“So this won’t be a problem,” 76 says. Torbjörn shoots him a dirty look, but 76 merely shrugs slightly and says, “Asking for clarification. That’s all.”

“It won’t be a problem,” Torbjörn bites out. _Finally_.

“Good,” 76 replies.

* * *

_“Vishkar is an extremely powerful enemy,” Winston says. “Their weapons have been meticulously designed for maximum efficiency. I’ve seen some schematics; you’ll have to be especially careful of photon projectors - ” and here he brings up an image of the weapon - “Though from what I understand, they are only given to the most skilled of architechs._

_“In addition,” Winston goes on, “Many architechs are able to weave shields around their associates. If you find yourself in battle with many of them, keep in mind that they are highly durable. It’s best to make your escape than to attempt to take them down.”_

_“Are you sure six of us will be enough to complete this mission?” Zenyatta asks, suddenly. He’s since floated to the other side of the conference room, seemingly observing some papers left on a desk._

_“I’m sure of it,” Winston says firmly. “The team is adaptable and, more importantly, quick. There’s no way we can take all enemies down, nor do we want to; we just want to get Lúcio out and, if we’re lucky, some dirt on Vishkar.”_

* * *

76 sits down heavily, pulse rifle finding its way into his lap. Torbjörn resumes tinkering with his own weapon, and Hana glances between all the members on the plane before settling on the one right next to her.

“Genji?” Genji hums acknowledgement, keeping his voice low in imitation of hers. “Do you consider yourself omnic?”

“It is one half of me, just as I am also human, so - yes, I do.” Hana looks over at Torbjörn, just a brief flicker of her eyes, but Genji follows her gaze nonetheless. He lets out a wry chuckle. “Do not worry, D.Va. Torbjörn may be biased, but he is a soldier like us, and I have worked with him before. He will not cause problems if he says he will not.”

76 is close enough to hear their conversation and he nods in agreement. Hana lets it go with a sigh.

* * *

_Hana’s painting her battle stripes as the briefing comes to a close. They’ve gone over how the operation will proceed, their enemies, everything that’s relevant to her as a foot soldier. She’s not paying attention anymore, knowing that 76 will get her up to speed if necessary; for the moment she holds a compact mirror out in front of her as she delicately dabs the pink lines onto her cheeks._

_“ - the world is not yet aware that Overwatch has been reformed, so it may be good to have D.Va stream the battle, if she’s willing.”_

_“Streaming?” she says, sitting up in her chair, shutting her mirror with a flex of her fingers, all interest focused in. She can’t keep the eagerness off of her face even as she cautions, “Are you sure that is wise?”_

_“Provided this mission is a success,” Winston says, “People should know that they won’t have to stand for injustices anymore.”_

_“What about the Petras Act?” Dr. Ziegler asks, brow furrowing._

* * *

“We’ll be touching down in a couple minutes, loves!” Tracer’s voice comes over intercom. “Make sure you’ve got your gear and all that, wouldn’t be good if we went in flatfooted!”

Hana gets up and makes her way over to her mech as everyone else in the plane immediately begins last-minute checks on their weapons. She’s already run complete diagnostics on it and fixed what she could, so she doesn’t bother checking it over as she powers it up. It’s reliable, if nothing else; she trusts her MEKA more than she trusts her handgun.

“Torbjörn, Tracer, with me, as soon as you can manage,” 76 says. “Genji, you know when to move?”

“Yes. We will be on your six, Commander.”

“Not your commander,” 76 says flippantly, causing Genji to chuckle and Hana to stare at him, unsure of what to think.

* * *

_“We all knew this would be illegal as all get out when we joined up,” Reinhardt points out. “If they try to stop you, you will simply have to force your way through.”_

_“Joy,” 76 deadpans, earning him some surprised looks. It’s the first sarcastic quip he’s made that isn’t exclusively for Hana’s ears, and she wants to applaud him for finally branching out a little bit. She resists, of course._

_“Besides, Rio de Janeiro is the best place to try and get something,_ anything _on Vishkar,” Winston says. “They’re the only ones who resisted redevelopment successfully.”_

_“I will stream it,” Hana says before they can debate it further. “Piece of cake.”_

* * *

“D.Va online,” she chirps into her mech’s microphone, waving cheekily to the camera as she finalizes her stream. “Hello, everyone! It has been a while since I have streamed. Hopefully you will be able to join me in this fight!”

“It will be interesting to be moderating in the middle of battle,” Genji muses, just as Tracer shouts that she’s set them down and the cargo doors open. Moments later 76 and Torbjörn hop out and Tracer soon joins them with a few blinks from her accelerator, and then it's just her and Zenyatta waiting behind the cyborg in front of them.

“Do your best,” D.Va tells him, grinning.

“It won’t be the first time,” he says with a shake of his head, twisting the fingers of his right hand. Round, sharpened shurikens soon slot between his fingers. 

“Do not get too distracted,” D.Va teases, to which he laughs, and then she flicks her eyes over and sees the chatbox in the corner of her eye fill up with text, “Yes, that was Tracer, from Overwatch. You have been wondering where I have been, no?”

* * *

_“Although you should keep in mind that streaming will alert local authorities,” Hana says, after a moment’s thought. “My fans are from all over the world. My victory in the_ Starcraft _championships once cause such an upset in France that they had to shut down a whole city.”_

_“No more hiding,” Winston says decisively. “If nothing else, Overwatch will make people pause. Should they strike, make sure you use non-lethal takedowns only. In fact, try to minimize casualties, if possible.”_

_“And if it’s not possible?” Tracer asks._

_“You already know the answer to that,” Winston says with a tired chuckle._

* * *

“Good news and bad news,” D.Va says as the allotted time passes and Genji hops down from the plane. She and Zenyatta follow after him. “Good: I am safe and alive and I am a member of Overwatch. Bad - ”

She cracks her knuckles when the telltale gunfire from 76’s plasma rifle echoes in her ears -

“Vishkar Corporation is going to have a bad day today.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i debated between having lines separate the italics and non-italics for the longest time. eventually i decided it would be cleaner to have them in, but now i'm having second thoughts again. hm!
> 
> also yes, part one of four. lúcio's mission is a bit trickier than torby's, as it turns out. c:
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- besides the wednesday diner dash dinners, overwatch also has a weekly capture the flag competition every thursday two hours after dinner  
> \- the premise is simple: capture the flag and make it to your own base to win  
> \- the only difference is that once you have the flag, you can't use any of your powers  
> \- example: tracer grabs the flag easily because of her blinking, but she can't blink back to her side. she has to run back to her own side on her feet while everyone on the opposing team can use their own powers to tag her and put her in jail  
> \- another example: hana has to exit her mech if she has the flag  
> \- another example: lúcio has to ditch his skates if he has the flag  
> \- you get the idea  
> \- everyone has to participate unless they are in the medbay for some reason, whereupon mercy also does not participate  
> \- you are allowed to sneak around in enemy territory; it is in fact encouraged  
> \- flags can be hidden anywhere  
> \- once a flag is moved from its location by another team, it can't be moved back to a hiding spot  
> \- if overwatch members want even more chaos, they can split themselves up into four teams rather than just two  
> \- it's encouraged to shoot each other, but all bullets are replaced with harmless ones that emit a slight electrical shock instead of, you know, actually killing people  
> \- genji and hanzo are the most sought after because of their ability to move around without detection


	34. OPERATION: EXTRACT LÚCIO (part 2 of 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Overwatch gets in contact with Lúcio, encounters strong Vishkar resistance, and runs into some trouble that comes in the form of a single talented architech.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no military experience and i do not know anyone with military experience. everything that happens in this chapter is due to me rationalizing the shit out the situation and deciding what the most logical course of action would be, which 76 then took. blame any and all errors on me in that regard ;-;
> 
> i hope you're all having a great day today! you deserve one c:

Tracer had put them down maybe a half-kilometer out of town, and their advance was timed so that D.Va, Genji and Zenyatta would begin moving just as 76, Torbjörn, and Tracer reached the city limits. It takes them a bit to realize that Zenyatta can’t possibly keep up with Hana’s rocket boosters - nor can Genji, not for long periods of time - so in the end it devolves into having Genji secured to her back while Zenyatta is carefully tucked under one of D.Va’s fusion cannons. Needless to say, traffic slows down as they race towards Rio, and the viewers of D.Va’s stream are filling the chatbox with repeated exclamations of ‘I can’t believe this is happening’ and ‘You’re in _Overwatch_?’.  
  
All in all, it’s rather fun. She can’t stop the occasional bouts of giggling at the setup, but it’s fun nonetheless.  
  
“ _Sitrep,_ ” 76 barks over comm. It occurs to D.Va a moment later that she’s not actually close enough to hear his pulse rifle; she’s just hearing it over the channel.  
  
“No resistance on the advance,” Genji reports. The city’s skyline looms higher and higher the closer they get. “I assume you took care of them for us.”  
  
“ _Afraid we’re gonna have the subtlety of a brick,_ ” 76 confirms. “ _Vishkar’s dug in. They weren’t expecting us, but they can make cover wherever they want._ ”  
  
“Where is Lúcio located?”  
  
“ _He’s in Vishkar custody. He only managed to tell me that much before they confiscated his comm, so unless you have another method of communicating with him, we’re gonna have to search the old-fashioned way._ ”  
  
“ _Hold on,_ ” Winston says out of nowhere, and D.Va remembers belatedly that he’s watching their mission unfold from the safety of Gibraltar, “ _I should be able to find Lúcio’s general location by tracking his seized comm. Just a moment._ ”  
  
“Also, I think I may be able to get in touch with him, but I will not be able to move while doing so,” D.Va says, bringing up the messenger application on her mech’s hub. Lúcio is online, unsurprisingly, probably digging through all available options to get help, and - yep, the app informs her she has unread messages. “He is trying to contact me as we speak.”  
  
“ _Acknowledged. Rendezvous with Torbjörn first before talking to him._ ”  
  
“Understood. Where is he?”  
  
“ _Here,_ ” Winston says, a red dot appearing on her mini-map. She’s quick to plot a course towards it as the gorilla goes on, “ _I’ve managed to track the communicator as well - it’s here._ ” Another dot appears, this time a bright green. It’s several blocks away from where Torbjörn is stationed with his turret.  
  
“ _Tracer, close in on that location. Scout_ only. _Do not engage._ ”  
  
“ _Copy that, Commander!_ ”  
  
“ _Not your commander,_ ” 76 grumbles, before more gunfire fills the air.  
  
By this point they’ve passed the limits and are in the city proper. D.Va deactivates her rocket boosters just long enough to change her direction before shooting off again, and very quickly she sees where Torbjörn has set himself up: second floor of a perfect, glassy building, window shattered to allow his turret full access to the swarming enemies below. At the very least it’s driven the Vishkar agents behind cover, strange white plastic constructs.  
  
“ _I’ll cover you!_ ” Torbjörn hollers in the comm over the firing of his turret, and D.Va takes that as her cue to rocket boost up to him. Vishkar opens fire; Genji does something with his sword that causes a number of agents to drop, and none of the bullets so much as clip the exterior of her mech. “Glad you could make it,” Torbjörn says with a huff, addressing D.Va alone before eyeing Zenyatta and Genji in silence as they clamber down from D.Va’s MEKA.  
  
“Where would you like us, Commander?” Genji asks, and now D.Va’s sure he and Tracer are using the title just to annoy 76.  
  
“ _Not your commander,_ ” 76 says on cue before ordering, “ _Genji, get behind enemy lines, wreak some havoc, but stay out of sight as much as possible. We need to break through to allow Torbjörn to advance. Zenyatta, do you need to be close to provide support?_ ”  
  
“Negative, Commander. I can both heal and sabotage from a distance.”  
  
“ _Not your - forget it,_ ” 76 grumbles, and D.Va can hear Tracer tittering into the comm. “ _Zenyatta, keep an eye and help us out if we need it._ ”

“Yes, Commander.”

“ _I’ll be flanking them from the left. Genji, tell me when you’re in position._ ”  
  
“Affirmative.” Genji’s off in a flash of light green.  
  
“ _D.Va, get in touch with Lúcio. Once you’ve confirmed his location and status, join the battle. We won’t be able to advance far without a tank to absorb some of the shots._ ”  
  
“Understood,” D.Va says, and with that she takes her hands off of the triggers and calls up her keyboard on the hub.

Sent at 15.22  
Lúcio!!!  
oh thank god you’re here.  
they took away the comm i filched from one of them earlier, so i’m stuck with just this.  
luckily they don’t know my turntables can double as a communicator.  
hello?  
it says you’re online, don’t leave me hanging.  
c’mon, d.va, this is seriously not the time!!

D.Va  
sorry!! i was in the middle of getting to my commander’s checkpoint  
we are attempting to get through a bottleneck and advance towards your location  
or at least the location of your comm  
do you know where you are??  
Seen at 15.31

Sent at 15.31  
Lúcio!!!  
here, let me send you the coordinates.

[Lúcio!!! has sent file: coordinates.txt at 15.31]

[You have opened  Lúcio!!!’s file: coordinates.txt at 15.31]

D.Va quickly plugs the coordinates into her mech and discovers that Vishkar had moved Lúcio’s comm into another building; Lúcio himself was being kept about two blocks east. “Are you getting this, Winston?” she asks over the gunfire.  
  
“ _Yes. I'm updating everyone’s information as we speak._ ”  
  
D.Va  
ok!!  
i will have to go offline to rejoin the fight  
is there anything i should know before i go?  
can you walk?  
Seen at 15.32

Sent at 15.32  
Lúcio!!!  
yep, all limbs intact.  
they took my weapons, though.  
think they’re being kept in the room over.  
if you grab them on your way in, i can help you out!

D.Va  
will do!  
see you soon!  
Seen at 15.32  
  
“Seventy-six, Lúcio’s weapons are being kept near him, as far as he knows, and he is in good health.”  
  
“ _Good job,_ ” 76 says. “ _Get down here so we can push. Once you land, continue advancing and lay down cover fire. Torbjörn, follow her once we deal with all of the hostiles._ ”  
  
“Understood,” Torbjörn says behind her, and she echoes him a moment later.  
  
“ _Master,_ ” and that’s Genji, “ _If you could place an orb of discord of the sharpshooter at the left corner of the building in front of you._ ”  
  
Zenyatta moves his hands together before he shoots out a purple-hued orb, one that sticks to the sharpshooter in question and remains floating near her. Genji’s there and gone in an instant, and D.Va swallows hard when she sees the woman fall, eyes rolling towards the back of her head.  
  
Still, she can’t hesitate: she jumps down, safe with the turret’s covering fire, and activates her defense matrix as she storms towards the Vishkar agents in front. She quickly redirects the incoming bullets almost absently, flicking the lasers to and from to keep them from hitting her, but as she draws closer those further to the sides manage to get a few glancing shots - only for a moment, though, before Genji and 76 rush in and mow down person after person.  
  
(D.Va smiles in victory as her stream goes nuts. Hana, on the inside, quakes.)  
  
“ _Tracer, how’s it look?_ ” 76 asks, still too far away for D.Va to make out what he’s saying without the comm.  
  
“ _Lots of security. I’ve managed to take down all visible snipers, though, and there are a number of entrances to choose from!_ ”  
  
“Tracer,” 76 growls, and D.Va is now close enough to hear him, “I told you _not_ to engage.”  
  
“ _Oops!_ ”  
  
“This is why you were in Blackwatch,” 76 says exasperatedly, and by now Torbjörn, Genji and Zenyatta have gathered around. “Find us and join up ASAP.”  
  
“ _You got it, Commander!_ ”  
  
“Not your commander,” 76 drones before waving a hand and saying, “Let’s move. Genji, take point; Zenyatta, Torbjörn, stay behind D.Va.”  
  
Everyone falls into place as Genji zooms ahead, climbing up one of the buildings and jumping from roof-to-roof as he goes; 76, thankfully, moves forward at a steady trot rather than a full-out sprint, allowing Zenyatta and Torbjörn to keep pace, while D.Va keeps a back camera activated to keep an eye on Torbjörn, just in case, and chatters to her stream quietly as they go. Tracer soon blinks in and stays at the back of the group, but besides that, they meet no resistance as they close in on the designated building.  
  
Strange, D.Va thinks, and she’s sure everyone else thinks so too.  
  
“ _Vishkar has discovered their dead snipers,_ ” Genji says after some time. “ _They have abandoned the building with his comm and are instead swarming the building where Lúcio is being kept._ ”  
  
“Great,” 76 says with a sigh. Tracer, instead of being even the tiniest bit apologetic, just giggles. “What’s the least-guarded entrance?”  
  
“ _It is a small ventilation system on the west side of the building. It appears to be large enough to fit some of us._ ”  
  
“Who can’t fit?”  
  
“ _You, Master Zenyatta, and D.Va, if she stays in her mech_.”  
  
76 ponders this for half a second before saying, “Tracer, Genji, use it to get in on my order. Find Lúcio, find his weapons, get him out. Do _not_ engage. We’ll create a distraction at the back of the building.”  
  
“ _Understood. Lena, I will wait for you at the top of the building_.”  
  
“You got it!” One blink later and the woman’s gone.  
  
“Let’s move,” 76 says again, and everyone follows behind him as they take a wide path around the building in question to stay out of sight.  
  
It’s a few minutes later when they find a good place to set up behind the building; D.Va places herself in the center of the street with Zenyatta further back and 76 a bit to the side and behind her. At his signal she steps out into the open and begins firing on the agents guarding the door, while Torbjörn takes advantage of the agents' distraction and puts up his turret near the corner of the sidewalk, allowing him enough cover to repair the thing should it ever need it, and then 76 snaps, “Genji, Tracer - _now_.”  
  
“ _Affirmative._ ”  
  
“ _Goin’ in!_ ”  
  
And then D.Va’s fusion cannon jams. Not just one, but both, and a quick glance shows that there is some kind of white and blue plastic thing covering the entire arms of her mech. _Architechs_ , D.Va grumbles inwardly, and then she shouts, “I cannot fire!”  
  
(D.Va seethes with anger. Inside, Hana quakes.)  
  
“Use your matrix for now,” 76 barks, pulse rifle ra-ta-ta-ing beside her. “We’ll use your self-destruct sequence at the next break in fire. Zenyatta, Torbjörn, be ready to find cover.”  
  
A purple orb flies past D.Va’s shoulder and hovers over one of the women at the back - the one who’d jammed D.Va’s guns, it looks like, given the blue light she’s weaving in her palm. “Understood, Commander,” Zenyatta says, as orbs fly out and, despite his best intentions, continue to miss the architech.  
  
“My turret,” Torbjörn moans, which is as much acknowledgement as anything.

It’s only heartbeats later that the chance arises - 76 shouts something D.Va doesn’t quite pick up as she activates her rocket boosters, slams the self-destruct button, and ejects, all the while babbling apologies to her viewers as she sprints and ducks behind a building for cover. Torbjörn and 76 are quick to join her, with Zenyatta already waiting and throwing an orb of harmony at her, and its glow eases D.Va’s nerves a bit as the explosion rocks the world nearby. 76 doesn’t remove his steadying arm around her shoulders even as he peers around the building to assess the damage, but at his sharp intake of breath D.Va knows something is wrong, especially when 76 goes out with his pulse rifle firing. D.Va recalls her mech and clambers into it before following.  
  
Standing at the back entrance of the building, the only one entirely unharmed while the rest of her team is downed and dead, is the same architech from before. Her face is steely and beautiful and sharp, but the stance of her body screams _danger_ and D.Va instantly recognizes the photon projector at her hip. Her arms move rhythmically, as if in a dance, and D.Va feels her stomach tighten with dread: she’s going to jam her mech’s cannons again.  
  
“ _Got Lúcio!_ ” Tracer shouts over comm.  
  
“Stay back,” 76 snarls in tandem when D.Va takes a step forward, “You need to stay out of range of her hard-light abilities. Tracer, Genji, grab his weapons and get out of there now.”

“ _Understood, Commander. Lena, let's go._ ”  
  
“The true enemy of humanity is disorder,” the architech says in response, somehow audible over 76’s incessant fire, soon joined by the constant harmony of Torbjörn’s turret, and with a flourish there is something blue and glowing beside her. D.Va watches with growing horror as agents begin to pour through: it’s a _teleporter_. The architech’s eyes are intent on 76’s as she drones, “You would do well to remember that,” and just like that, it’s game on, like nothing’s even changed.  
  
(Hana, curled up inside, quakes, as D.Va lets out a feral scream.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's SYMMETRA!!! what a surprise yo. c:
> 
> in other news, i just learned my computer (which i sent in to get repaired 40+ days ago) is not coming back and instead i am getting a new one, which should arrive in one to three days, so i can finally return my friend's computer after rudely jacking it from her lmao c: at least that's something! new computer also has better specs than my old one, so that's cool. still. kinda miss my old computer. rest in peace, friend c':
> 
> also i got my braces off! (i'm actually a college student, i just got them super late in comparison to my peers ;-;)
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- lúcio is the kind of person who looks down on people who have beats by dr. dre, but he doesn't say it out loud nor does it change how he'll treat you. he just. you know. gives you that look and you think 'did i fuck up?' but if you ask him he laughs and says it's nothing  
> \- needless to say, hana soon had the best sound equipment available to use for her streams when lúcio was finished with her setup  
> \- mercy can't fit earbuds in her ears; she's missing that piece of cartilage that holds them in. not that she cares, since earbuds can be extremely damaging to eardrums and the cilia inside your ear and make sure you listen to the volume DOWN you heathen  
> \- tracer can only listen to music when she's not blinking around, otherwise it sounds really weird and disjointed. it's unfortunate; she loves to listen to music but she can't do it unless she's stationary  
> \- torby will never stop lauding [that one overture with cannons as percussion](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbxgYlcNxE8)  
> \- 76 has built-in headphones in his visor. he came prepared! (they work by vibrating the bones by his ears)  
> \- mccree doesn't use headphones and he prefers listening to his music from speakers, but he does have a nice pair of earbuds to use in a pinch  
> \- reinhardt has the cheapest headphones you could possibly buy and earbuds you can get for free from, like, airplanes or whatever, and he sings uproariously to whatever he's listening to  
> \- winston can't use earbuds but he's tinkered with a pair of headphones so they fit his head, so he uses those c:  
> \- zenyatta and genji can play music whenever they want, though they can't broadcast music like speakers. they can broadcast music to each other and to other omnics, though, which is the only reason genji and zenyatta ever avoid each other (b/c you know genji plays all kinds of anime openings to annoy his master)


	35. OPERATION: EXTRACT LÚCIO (part 3 of 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lúcio is retrieved from Vishkar custody and Symmetra is dealt with, somewhat; even so, there are still things that have to be taken care of in Rio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had an almond croissant for breakfast today. to those with nut allergies, i sincerely hope you know just the pastry that is equivalent in deliciousness c:
> 
> i hope you have an awesome day! you deserve it!

“ _Okay, just got a hit on her - her name is Symmetra. She’s one of Vishkar’s most talented architechs to date,_ ” Winston says. “ _There’s not much on her file, but Genji’s already planted some bugs and Athena’s digging through what she can find. We’ll get back to you._ ”  
  
“Acknowledged,” 76 says, ducking behind D.Va briefly as he reloads. D.Va hits her defense matrix as she weaves in and out of Symmetra’s range; so far, she’s managed to keep her fusion cannons operational, but given Symmetra’s furrowed brow, she’s beginning to think it’s only a matter of time before she has to self-destruct again. “Genji, Tracer, where are you?”  
  
“ _Lúcio can’t fit through the ventilation system through which we entered,_ ” Genji reports. “ _However, he is proving to be a significant threat to Vishkar forces when we have no choice but to confront them. We are moving towards the back entrance of the building with his help._ ”  
  
“Whoo!” D.Va cheers. Her stream’s chatbox, having since rebooted itself proceeding her mech’s self-destruct, blows up with Lúcio’s name; they’re still coming to terms with the fact that their celebrity gamer is friends with a celebrity DJ, and it thankfully interrupts the debate between the pro-Vishkar supporters and those against the corporation.  
  
“Be careful,” 76 orders. “You heard the bit about Symmetra?”  
  
“ _Affirmative. Lúcio says he has dealt with her before, so it will not be a problem._ ” There’s a metallic sound as Genji’s sword whispers out of its sheath, then another as it goes back in. He sounds satisfied with himself as he adds, “ _Lena and I will make sure this is true._ ”  
  
“Good. As soon as we’ve got him, we’re leaving.” 76 downs a Vishkar agent with helix rockets, shooting another as they dive out of the way to dodge. At this point, only D.Va is attempting to hit Symmetra; the woman seems to dance out of the way, and any bullets to do hit ricochet off a glowing blue shield, one that she refreshes exactly every minute. D.Va knows - she’s been counting the seconds because it seemed oddly regular.  
  
Unfortunately, for every agent who goes down, another two pop through the teleporter, and Symmetra and other agents have built constructs to protect it from being shot and destroyed. Without Tracer and Genji’s mobility, the likelihood that it will go down is minimal, and D.Va and crew can only hope that their lost cavalry arrive soon. At this point, all they are doing are just holding position. Which is the point, she guesses, since they’re the distraction, but still.  
  
“ _Incoming!_ ” Tracer exclaims, and that’s all the warning everyone gets before the doors blow open, quite literally, sending shards of glass flying at the Vishkar agents. Most escape unscathed due to the blue, rippling shields, but some are not so fortunate as Tracer and Genji rush out and are on the move. “ _Now this is a right - oh, a teleporter! I wonder where it goes._ ”  
  
“Tracer - ”  
  
“ _Just kiddin’ around, Commander,_ ” Tracer says with a giggle as she presumably shoots the thing, Genji at her back with his sword flying about in the air wildly. He’s deflecting bullets, D.Va realizes dimly, and then her breath catches with excitement when Lúcio himself skates out into the open, grin wide on his face, hair flying in all directions as he hockey-stops and aims, quick and easy, at Symmetra in the same breath.  
  
“Push off, Vaswani,” he spits, and then his gun makes some weird sound and Symmetra goes flying into the air, though she turns it into a flip and lands in a roll some distance away. It’s the coolest thing D.Va’s seen for a while, and she lets out a little cheer before she can stop herself.  
  
There’s still a mess of Vishkar agents to deal with, though, and D.Va’s quick to refocus on them when Genji shouts “ _Ryūjin no ken wo kurae!_ ” and then she stops shooting in order to not hit the blur of green as it zips between Vishkar agent after Vishkar agent. He is accompanied by Tracer’s blue blinking and her chirp of “here you go!”, followed by explosions, as she dances around Genji’s attacks. It’s little wonder why 76 had paired the two together: with their combined speed and the experience of working at each other's back, soon the opponents that had them so frustrated are dead on the ground.  
  
( _Oh god_ , Hana thinks, _oh god, oh god, oh god_ \- )  
  
She knows for sure that reinforcements must be on the way even without the teleporter, though, which is why she isn’t surprised when 76 calls for Tracer and Genji to join up as soon as Genji sheathes his blade; Lúcio follows them back and gives D.Va a grin when he sees her.  
  
“Lúcio,” she says in a sing-song voice, watching the stream’s chatbox blow up again. “Hello!”  
  
“ _Olá_ , D.Va!” Lúcio answers, grinning.  
  
“Focus, people,” 76 growls, “Fight’s not over yet.”  
  
“This must be the seventy-six guy you keep talking about,” Lúcio says, unperturbed, as he does a neat little slide and stops behind her. The music he’s playing is soft and melodious and, somehow, makes D.Va feel like she could take on the world and win. “Also, meeting Tracer and that cyborg ninja dude? Made my _day_. Introduce me next time, yeah?”  
  
“You got it,” D.Va says. “But I think formal introductions will have to wait until later.”  
  
“Let’s move,” 76 says; “Now’s our chance to make a break for it.”  
  
“Commander,” Zenyatta interrupts before they actually start doing anything, “Symmetra has escaped. Should we be concerned?”  
  
“In any other circumstance, probably,” 76 says, slamming a new round into his pulse rifle before using it to gesture at them to follow him. “But we’ve gotta go. Whatever she’s doing shouldn’t affect us if we’re not here.”  
  
“Wait, hang on a - we can’t just _leave_ ,” Lúcio argues, even as Torbjörn finishes packing up his turret and the seven of them start moving away from the building, taking a roundabout path to hopefully escape most of Vishkar’s pursuing agents. Local authorities are starting to show up; in retrospect, they probably should have attempted to keep public damages at a minimum, D.Va thinks with a wince, giving her mech a little pat. “Vishkar’s going to try to destroy my home! Look how much they’ve done already!”  
  
He gestures wildly to the place around them. He’s not… D.Va’s not quite sure what he’s pointing out: the place is all perfect, tall, glass buildings, clean sidewalks, swept streets, greenery here and there. It seems utopian.  
  
“We can’t drive out an entire organization,” 76 says flatly. “Seven of us, hundreds of them.”  
  
“They’ve destroyed the culture of this place,” Lúcio snaps. “This used to be a hotbed of music and dance and food and markets! Look at it now; it’s like no one’s alive.” 76 has not stopped moving, and now Lúcio comes to a halt and yells, “I won’t let them turn all of Rio into some kind of - some kind of _dead_ thing! _Foda-se! _”__  
  
( _Dead_ , Hana thinks, _they had families, but now they’re all dead and it’s my fault_ \- )  
  
“No!” D.Va shouts when Lúcio turns around, right back whence they had come. He’s already moving faster than everyone else because of skates, and D.Va watches with a detached sense of horror as he flips through his music and boosts the volume - suddenly he’s that much faster, racing off down the street and taking the corner with a skid.  
  
“Genji, Tracer, grab him,” 76 says without inflection. “Catch up to us.” The two spare only a nod before darting away, and finally 76 comes to a halt and rubs a knuckle against his forehead as he speaks. “Winston, your call. Should we interfere?”  
  
“ _This is Mercy,_ ” Dr. Ziegler says instead of Winston. “ _Genji managed to upload Lúcio’s program into Symmetra’s arm - the prosthetic one. It apparently acts as a sort of memory drive for her, and while we only have preliminary sketches, Athena has managed to uncover the schematics to a weapon of great destruction._ ”  
  
“ _Additionally,_ ” Winston adds, “ _There is a memo archived in one of the servers Genji bugged suggesting that Vishkar Corp. blew up a building of a rivaling redeveloping company, Calado, which won them the bid to use hard-light in the slums of Rio de Janeiro._ ”  
  
“That’s enough to strike back?”  
  
“ _It is sufficient blackmail material,_ ” Dr. Zielger confirms, “ _And Athena has only scratched the surface._ ”  
  
“Any suggestions on how to go about doing this?” By now D.Va can hear Lúcio shouting in frustration as Genji and Tracer bodily drag him back to their position, and she turns and fixes him with an apologetic look as he glares. He feels betrayed, she can see that, but she can only offer him a shrug before tuning back to 76’s conversation.  
  
“ _You’ve done well in taking down Vishkar agents, despite their shielding abilities,_ ” Winston says; “ _I’m beginning to think only the more skilled architechs like Symmetra can produce the highly-effective shields I was concerned about._ ”  
  
“Lena and I avoided all confrontation when possible,” Genji interrupts before 76 can speak again. Lúcio is still dangled between him and Tracer, though he has at least ceased struggling. “The only reason she and I could take down so many at once is because I used my blade and she her bombs. I would not advise a head-on attack; though the shields might not be as effective depending on who produced it, they are still a significant factor to consider.”  
  
( _Don’t freak out,_ Hana thinks, _now isn’t the time_ \- )  
  
“ _Noted,_ ” Winston says; “ _In that case, it might be better to use diplomacy. Vishkar is not yet aware of Lúcio’s program in their systems and, once they are, it will autonomously self-destruct. Before that happens, we will attempt to find as much blackmail as we can. With that kind of leverage, they won’t have any choice but to listen to us._ ”  
  
“Would they listen to us, though?” 76 says. “Overwatch isn’t the same kind of threat it used to be.”  
  
“Not to interrupt, but we need to move, Commander!” Tracer chirrups. “Vishkar’s starting to regroup. They’ll be after us in a tick.”  
  
“Acknowledged.” 76 waves his pulse rifle in that same ‘follow me’ gesture as before and everyone darts after him as he begins to move. “Tracer, you’re on point. D.Va, get Lúcio to stop whining. Winston, are you sure this is the wisest course of action?”  
  
“Roger!” Tracer says before disappearing in a blink.  
  
“Come up next to me, Lúcio,” D.Va says, only to giggle when Genji and by extension Lúcio merely move forward to trot alongside her. “Hello, Genji.”  
  
“Greetings, D.Va.”  
  
“You can’t just leave my people here,” Lúcio says instead of another salutation, and now he’s turned to D.Va with furrowed brows and an angry frown. “You can’t know what it’s like to just leave home like this - I can’t just go and leave it in ruins!”  
  
D.Va gives Lúcio a long look. After a moment, she reaches up to press the comm in her ear, turning it off and therefore tuning out of 76’s conversation with Winston and Dr. Zielger, before she says, “You are aware I live in South Korea, yes?”  
  
“Yes,” Lúcio says impatiently.  
  
“Right. My home is attacked every few years by a giant omnic that lives in the sea. It learns from its mistakes and is stronger each time we battle it. Countless lives have been lost, huge swathes of land are unlivable, and we live in constant fear as we wait for it to strike again.” D.Va narrows her eyes at him. “I know exactly what it means to leave my home, even when it might be destroyed without me. I joined Overwatch because it might be my country’s only chance at survival.”  
  
That, she thinks, and to find some actual competitors to compete against. Fortunately enough, Genji fits the bill.

( _It’s an off year this year,_ Hana thinks dully; _would I even be allowed to fight when I go back?_ )

He doesn't say anything for a number of seconds. When he does, it's simply “Oh.”  
  
“We have a plan to save Rio de Janeiro, Lúcio,” she tells him. “Please work with us until then. I promise we will not leave your city to die.”  
  
Lúcio gives a slight nod, sighing, and Genji releases his arm. He skates alongside them without a word after that, and D.Va nods in satisfaction before she reaches up and clicks her comm on again.  
  
“ _\- group in front of you, Commander. There are eighteen in total, three armed with photon projectors. They’re setting up sentry turrets as well, so be careful not to get caught._ ”  
  
“Acknowledged. Continue scouting, Tracer, do not engage.”  
  
“ _I got it the first three times you said it, Soldier,_ ” Tracer says with a lilting laugh.  
  
“Can never be too careful,” 76 mutters before swinging his pulse rifle in front of him. “Police are locking down the streets, so this is our only way out. Get ready to fight, but don’t try for takedowns; just try to get through.” Various murmurs of assent travel through the group. “Lúcio, you can heal?”  
  
“Think I’ll be more useful with a speed boost, boss,” Lúcio replies.  
  
“Can it affect all of us at once?”  
  
“Everyone in audible range. If you have a comm system, I can play it through that to keep Vishkar from benefiting.”  
  
“Do it. Genji or Zenyatta - ”  
  
“It is done,” Zenyatta says, and D.Va realizes a moment too late that 76 must have meant the comm frequency. A moment later Lúcio’s messing around with his sound-gun-fusion-thing and music begins to play in D.Va’s ear - a strong, fast bass with a bunch of other stuff she can’t even begin to recognize. It works, though, and she and 76 go first to lay down cover spray as the rest of the group sprints through Vishkar’s defenses, and though D.Va sees Symmetra attempting to do the same hard-light trick as before, Lúcio’s music helps both her and 76 rush through and even continue firing as they speed away before the architech can do anything.  
  
“ _I have never felt this good in my entire life,_ ” Genji says at some point, up front with Tracer by this point, “ _Even when I was human._ ”  
  
“The power of music, baby!” Lúcio whoops as they continue at a sprint down the perfect roads.  
  
“ _Police have surrounded the area,_ ” Winston warns. “ _Just break through the line and run for it._ ”  
  
“It’s like I never stopped being a vigilante,” 76 muses as they get closer and, when they show no signs of stopping, the police open fire.

“Hold up!” Lúcio shouts, which gets Genji and Tracer to hesitate for just a second, “Before you all go running off, just one last thing - _break it down!_ ”

D.Va sees him slam his gun thing into the ground and suddenly her mech's informing her it's just gained a wicked amount of shields, draining fast but enough to protect them from the rain of bullets coming from law enforcement. Genji and Tracer let out identical whoops as they proceed to break a street barrier in half just by rushing into it before disappearing beyond, and Torbjörn and D.Va are quick to follow behind them with Lúcio, Zenyatta, and finally 76 bringing up the rear. “Everyone all right?” 76 calls, slightly out of breath.  
  
( _No_ , Hana thinks.)  
  
“ _Peachy!_ ” Tracer says. Per usual, she is nowhere to be seen. “ _Just shot up a few mag-lev engines so they can’t chase us!_ ”  
  
“ _Don’t_ ,” Torbjörn snarls, and it takes a moment for D.Va to realize it’s directed at Zenyatta, who, upon noticing that a bullet had grazed Torbjörn’s arm, had attempted to pass his orb of harmony to him. “ _I don’t want anything of yours on me, omnic_.”  
  
“ _As you wish,_ ” Zenyatta says peacefully, and Lúcio's mouth drops into a scowl - but whatever he is going to say is lost when a helicopter from above opens fire on them with what sounds like some kind of machine gun.  
  
When the police attempt to get into their vehicles to give chase, they of course cannot in no small part due to Tracer’s foresight, and it’s soon after that they make it out of the city limits, out on one of the many roads leading out. The helicopter above is taken out with a few precise helix rockets from 76’s pulse rifle before they continue down the road, speedy and quick thanks to Lúcio’s music, and it seems like only seconds later that they find the Thunderbird again, disguised from most sensors and visibility, respectively, with some neat tech and some foliage.  
  
“Everyone in!” Tracer says as the cargo doors open and she zips into the plane's cockpit. Her voice is muffled as she shouts, “Best we get out of here as soon as possible, yeah?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick question: would anyone want to play overwatch with me?? i'll put my battletag up as soon as my new computer's in, so y'all can add me if you're interested c:
> 
> and my goodness - we've passed the 10.000 hit mark! amazing! thank you so much for the support!! <3
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- **brushes teeth in the morning and at night, flosses every day** : mercy, mccree, hanzo, symmetra, widowmaker  
> \- **brushes teeth in the morning and at night, flosses every now and then** : 76, zarya, pharah, ana, junkrat  
> \- **brushes teeth in the morning and at night** : hana, reinhardt, genji, tracer  
> \- **brushes teeth at night** : reaper, torby, lúcio, mei  
> \- **doesn't brush teeth** : bastion, zenyatta, winston, roadhog


	36. OPERATION: EXTRACT LÚCIO (part 4 of 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vishkar gets blackmailed, Lúcio joins Overwatch, Symmetra makes a lasting impression, and Hana takes a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a reminder that you can mouseover text to get translations!! (where it applies, of course.)
> 
> i hope you are having a illustrious day today! <3

The first thing Hana does is shut down her stream with the customary farewell that gets shorter and shorter the longer the stream is up. The second thing she does is get out of her mech. She doesn’t realize how much she’s quivering until she takes her customary spot next to 76 and leans against him and his arm sweeps up around her shoulders, and he glances down at her in a motion that’s too sudden to be anything surprise.  
  
_Pull yourself together_ , Hana thinks fiercely, and she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath and - and that was a terrible idea because now she can feel the sting of tears and that’s really _not_ what she needs right now. It takes her a bit, but she manages to get it under control, and then she straightens up and gives herself a little shake.  
  
During this time Lúcio has snagged the spot next to her, while Genji and Zenyatta are seated next to still-bleeding, grumbling-under-his-breath Torbjörn. Tracer is of course flying the plane, and now that the mission is over, D.Va can see the adrenaline begin to melt away from those around her, leaving exhaustion in its wake; leaning against 76’s side means she can feel it when he sags back into his seat, though she takes a bit of comfort in the arm around her. It’s… nice. She’s never had this before.  
  
“You said you had a plan to help Rio de Janeiro,” Lúcio prompts her, and she lets out a sigh through her nose.  
  
“Blackmail,” she says simply, mustering up a small smile. “Thanks to your program.”  
  
“Wait, what?” Lúcio says, frowning. “I thought your Winston guy just wanted to - _merda_ , he used it on Vishkar? And it _worked_?”  
  
“I embellished a bit of the code so it would be slightly less noticeable,” Genji says, “But other than that, yes. It did.”  
  
“Wow,” Lúcio says, blinking. “I must be better than I thought.”  
  
“Did you not hack into your government’s servers once?” D.Va says. She remembers hearing about that on the news at some point.  
  
“Well, yeah, but that’s not hard. Brazil’s political system isn’t exactly the best one out there - and even though they should hire omnic cybersecurity, they don’t, let’s put it that way.” Lúcio tilts his head. “So we’re blackmailing Vishkar into leaving Rio alone?”  
  
“ _Exactly,_ ” Winston says over comm, and therefore over intercom as well. “ _Considering how much damage we caused to redeveloped Vishkar property, and how many lethal takedowns that occurred - which I am not happy about, by the way - they’ll have no choice but to listen._ ”  
  
D.Va’s throat closes up and the world very carefully lilts to the side - gentle but disorienting, like if she reached out a hand the air would feel thick like molasses, like if she stood up and took a step she wouldn’t know when to stop, like if she thought about it too hard the world wouldn’t be real. _This is reality_ , she reminds herself distantly and squeezes her fingers into the palm of her hand, hard enough that her fingernails press crescent moons into her skin.  
  
“Is that a good idea?” Lúcio says, frowning. “If there’s anything I’ve learned from dealing with Vishkar, it’s that they can weasel their way out of anything - and they don’t pull their punches when they strike back.”  
  
“ _We don’t have much of a choice,_ ” Winston says. “ _I thought the same thing, but if we really want them out of Rio, this is the only way. We just don’t have the manpower to drive them out ourselves._ ”  
  
“Oh, about that,” Lúcio says. “By ‘we’ you mean Overwatch, right? Tracer was kind of a dead giveaway, but I just wanted to check.”  
  
He looks over at D.Va. D.Va gives him a nod, and it feels like her whole body rocks forward with the motion, and she really just wants to lie down and sleep. Lúcio seems fine - why can’t she handle it when she sees blood? Years after her first kill, why can’t she just _stop_?  
  
“ _Yes, it is,_ ” Winston says. “ _You’re a welcome addition to the team, Lúcio, if you’re interested._ ”  
  
“If you’re going to stop Vishkar, I’ll give you all I’ve got,” Lúcio promises, and Hana heaves a soft sigh.  
  
“ _We will. Angela is composing a message to send to the head of Vishkar as we speak; hopefully, they will have responded by the time you seven make it back to Gibraltar._ ” Winston sounds mostly tired, actually, but there’s an undertone of satisfaction there, too. “ _Of course, now we’ll have to explain the property damage and, with D.Va’s stream, the U.N. will likely want to get involved._ ”  
  
“You were streaming, _cara_?” Lúcio’s grin is wide and happy and it takes everything D.Va has to return it. “I was on your stream? Us kicking Vishkar’s butt was on your stream?”  
  
“Everything,” D.Va confirms, and thankfully her voice doesn’t wobble.  
  
Lúcio throws his hands up in the air and crows, “That’s so cool.”  
  
“ _The Petras Act will be problematic,_ ” Dr. Ziegler says over him. “ _News channels are already showing footage from the attack, and several gaming sites have already written articles about D.Va’s latest - hm, escapades. Seventy-six's presence is also problematic, it seems._ ”  
  
“Seventy-six?” D.Va says as Dr. Ziegler continues on about what exactly the world is saying about Overwatch's revival. 76 glances down at her, as she fingers the comm until she can pop it out and place it in a pocket. “I am going to sleep.”  
  
He grunts acknowledgement and, thankfully, doesn’t ask questions. “You need earplugs?”  
  
She tries to be surprised when he produces them from a pocket but really isn’t, and as soon as she tucks them into her ears she lets her head drop against his shoulder and closes her eyes. The feeling that everything isn’t quite right settles slowly, like water slowly meandering down a windshield of a car, as she focuses on her breathing and the warmth of 76 beside her; she can feel Lúcio bouncing in the seat besides her, but other than that, she eventually feels herself let go and the world fades away.  
  
She doesn’t dream, a miracle in and of itself.  
  
Hana wakes up when 76 shakes her. It’s starting to become a constant in her life, she thinks wryly as she sits up and takes out her earplugs, and she’s startled to see that there’s no one else in the plane; Zenyatta and Genji have just disembarked and further in the hangar she can see Lúcio chatting with Tracer while Torbjörn stomps along further ahead of them. She glances over at 76 to see him standing over her, his hand offered to her instead of around her, and she braces herself for whatever he’s going to say. Probably a lecture or something, she doesn’t know, but -  
  
“Talk now or later?” is all he says, and the relief hits her like a punch in the gut.  
  
“Later,” she says, looking away. “I will come find you.”  
  
He grunts and singlehandedly hefts her to her feet. His hand slips around her shoulders, loosely holding her to him; he’s grounding her, she realizes belatedly, and she wonders when he learned how to deal with this kind of thing as they follow the rest of their team out of the hangar and towards - maybe the conference room, she’s not entirely sure.

Outside the hangar, it’s dark - 76’s visor glows bright red as it adjusts for the lack of light, and Hana reflects that it’s after midnight. If she was in Korea, she would be streaming right now, and instead of musing on that she takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. She can hear the ocean, a harsh wind blowing across rocks and the Watchpoint itself to make eerie whistling, 76’s breathing, Lúcio and Tracer’s bright laughter echoing across the smooth surfaces.  
  
_This is real_ , she reminds herself. She can feel 76’s arm on her shoulders and the wind brush away the warmth from her face. _This is real._  
  
It's a long time after they left the hangar that, quite suddenly, “Skip the debrief,” 76 says, halting in place. Hana flashes him a surprised look, but he is of course inscrutable with his visor; she realizes belatedly they’d stopped in front of the barracks. The main building was further ahead. “Sleep. You’re dead on your feet.”  
  
( _They’re dead. All of them. You helped_.)  
  
“I cannot sleep,” Hana says, throat raw with honesty. “I need - ”  
  
And she stops. _No_. She’s not weak. She can do this on her own, she’s a soldier, she’s done this before. She doesn’t need any help. She’s young, but she’s not useless.  
  
“Okay,” she says instead, gently shaking free of 76’s grip. “I will see you tomorrow.”  
  
76 regards her for a long, silent moment. Hana doesn’t look up. “You want company?” he asks instead of anything else, and it’s strange that all she really wants to do is kind of… cling to him or something. Like an anchor.  
  
She’s always been her own anchor, though. She can manage. “No.”  
  
He hums assent. “All right. Good night, Hana.”  
  
“Good night.”

She's not expecting the hug, when it happens - it's a gentle one, he doesn't squeeze too hard, just puts his arms around her and holds her close, and she's quick to wind her arms around him because it's nice. She can hear his heartbeat from this close and that reassures her more than anything else for some reason, and when he lets go she does so reluctantly and waves as she goes in. _He's such a dad_ , she thinks to herself, and she's okay with that, actually.  
  
It’s dark in the barracks, but the hallways light up dimly as she pads through them to her room, keying her room open and locking it behind her. There’s a package on the floor, a box rather; she pokes it open to discover the clothes she had ordered had already arrived, somehow, so she gets out pajamas and throws the rest back into the box before collapsing into bed. She’s not going to try to sleep; there’s no way she could, not without vicious dreams. She knows better than to try, too. She’s been in a place like this, mentally, before.  
  
In the end, she pulls out her comm from her bodysuit and puts it in her ear, sitting on her bed with her back against the wall. If she's not going to do anything, she might as well get up to speed, a little. A bit of fiddling turns it on, and then -  
  
“ _\- sure that’s a good idea?_ ” That’s McCree. “ _I mean, not t’say I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her, but, ya know._ ”  
  
“ _It’s the best offer we’ve gotten so far._ ” Winston. “ _Vishkar’s even agreed to acknowledge the damage in Rio as their fault. We’re getting out this scot-free, basically._ ”  
  
“ _Seems dangerous_ ,” says 76, “ _Lúcio said so himself:_ _Vishkar’s ruthless. The minute our leverage wears out, they’ll find a way to get payback._ ”  
  
“ _Too late for that._ ” Tracer. “ _We have to accept the offer now, otherwise they will continue redeveloping Rio.”_  
  
“ _Agreed. All in favor?_ ” Presumably people raise their hands, instead of saying ‘aye’ or whatever. “ _All opposed?_ ” Again with raising hands, instead of ‘nay’. Probably for the best, Hana reflects, as Winston says, “ _All right, we’ll accept their terms._ ”  
  
“ _This is such_ besteira,” Lúcio grumbles. “ _I didn’t sign up to have Symmetra of all people come join us to represent Vishkar’s ‘best interests’. Pfeh._ ”  
  
Hana breathes in slowly and strains her ears, pressing down on the comm like it would help her hear better.  
  
“ _Symmetra is talented. We all saw that._ ” 76 again. “ _If she’s as professional as they said she is, she’ll be an asset to the team._ ”  
  
“ _Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it,_ ” Lúcio mutters  
  
“ _It is either this or the end of Rio as you know it,_ ” Zenyatta points out. “ _There are worse fates._ ”  
  
The rest of the comm chatter devolves as everyone begins talking at once, so she takes it out of her ear and places it on her bedside table. The clock reads 01.54, and with a sigh she lies down flat on her bed, folding her hands over her stomach. She wants to think about what the debrief entailed, but no matter how hard she tries to focus, it slips away from her like a ghost. Maybe she’ll get lucky and just feel numb before falling asleep.  
  
_Probably not_ , she thinks. Maybe she shouldn’t have refused 76’s offer for company after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hana was disassociating in this chapter. look it up if you're curious!
> 
> aaaaand that ends the operation! lúcio has been brought back safely and symmetra is now a part of overwatch. time for more seriousness, and then more silliness and less seriousness after that. whoop!
> 
> and a lot of people gave me their battletags - if you're not comfortable with giving them out where anyone can see, message me on tumblr! otherwise, my battletag is Key#11733. my computer's not in yet (and probably won't be for another week or so #rip) so i can't add you back, but you can add me! hopefully i'll be able to claim some objectives alongside you soon! (xbox and ps4 people, kick butt for me on your consoles!)
> 
> 'were you happy before this? now you're not' speculation (i.e. this stuff isn't stated directly to be canon, but it can be inferred):
> 
> \- fareeha is five years younger than mccree (in-game, she's thirty-two; mccree is thirty-seven). let's say fareeha was twelve or so in [this picture](https://hydra-media.cursecdn.com/overwatch.gamepedia.com/thumb/d/db/Ana_Overwatch.jpg/800px-Ana_Overwatch.jpg?version=357def0ce3d1adb19140d10a27990908). it's stated that mccree had already made a name for himself in the deadlock gang by the time he was forcibly recruited into blackwatch... which means he was doing stuff for deadlock gang when he was _younger than seventeen_. not only that, but the things he did manage to do during that time period, while he was that young, was enough to make him believe he had to atone for his mistakes  
>  \- the payload you deliver in King's Row is an EMP bomb  
> \- the reason fareeha was so cold and distant to people who told her about her mother wasn't because she was jealous that they knew her better - it was because no one in overwatch paid attention to how much each death affected ana's mental health  
> \- you realize that south korea had no alternative to fighting the giant omnic in the sea - a giant omnic that learned from its mistakes, could control omnics on land, and had never truly been defeated ever since its existence was discovered - other than throwing professional gamers at it?  
> \- even worse: you realize that omnics who had their own individual lives could be forced to kill for the giant omnic in the sea? what if they were self-aware the entire time but couldn't do anything about it??  
> \- mondatta's assassination basically ensured that there would never be peaceful omnic-human relations, at least in england  
> \- ana has no idea that amélie lacroix was brainwashed; she believes amélie killed gérard and joined talon on her own volition  
> \- gabe, jack, and ana were very close, and what likely helped push gabe to his dismal end is his belief that ana was dead  
> \- reinhardt was forced to retire and so had to watch his noble Overwatch fall into disarray, unable to do anything on the sidelines  
> \- if overwatch knew about blackwatch's activities, why did none of the members of overwatch ever try to stop it? or, if they did, like mercy or reinhardt or maybe even jack probably would have, would gabriel even listen to them? would it have mattered in the end?  
> \- all of the scientists at the moon base were killed because winston was the favorite of all the gorillas (supposedly. i've seen only one source confirm this). winston had to watch his father and family die and he himself would have been killed had he not escaped the base in time. it's little wonder why he so tightly clings to overwatch; it's the only family he has now  
> \- what exactly do you think happens to reaper's body when he goes intangible? how much would it hurt?  
> \- tracer faded in and out of time without her chronal accelerator. how often do you think she occasionally faded out of the timeline all-together - meaning people occasionally forgot she ever existed?


	37. breakfast of champions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana eats breakfast. Someone drinks coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you have a wondrous day today! you deserve it!

Hana ends up dozing on and off for most of the night. The nap on the Thunderbird really doesn't help, and she finally gives up and throws on some of her new cute clothes around 0713, taking a brief trip to the bathroom and putting makeup on to cover the dark circles under her eyes. _Like battle paint_ , she thinks to herself as she looks over her handiwork, and in the end she puts her hair up, slaps some lip gloss on, and calls it good enough. Not like she’s going anywhere today - not like her handler’s going to parade her about to encourage recruitment. She’s glad those days are over, at least.  
  
McCree is up when she gets to the mess hall. He’s drinking coffee, she thinks. Maybe. Whatever, as she goes to the kitchen and digs around for something to eat, and when she settles back out at his table, it's with rice and what she thinks is leftover chicken or something thrown in with soy sauce for taste. It’s fine, she guesses, as she takes a bite. For some reason, despite getting up and putting effort into looking nice today, despite her struggle to rest in the first place, she really just wants to go to sleep again.  
  
“You look tired, darlin’,” McCree says after a slurp of coffee, glancing up only briefly from his datapad. She grumbles something, even she’s not sure what, and he laughs. “Take it the mission went well?”  
  
“Not sure,” she says, taking another bite, speaking with her mouth full. She considers her words before she decides to go with a half-truth, half-lie and tells him, “I skipped the debrief.”  
  
“I noticed. Winston wasn’t too happy ‘bout that.”  
  
“Nah, but he shut up really quick when ol’ Soldier gave him the snake-eye,” Lúcio says from out of nowhere, causing Hana to jump and whack the table with her knee while McCree merely raises an eyebrow. He plops down next to her and offers her an apologetic smile. “ _Bom dia_.”  
  
“ _Annyeong haseyo_ ,” she replies, her voice a bit higher than usual, shoving more rice and chicken in her mouth. She’s not going to say anything else until she realizes the silence is a bit expectant, so she swallows her mouthful and asks, “Did Winston actually shut up?”  
  
“Oh, yeah, it was a hoot,” Lúcio says with a laugh. He’s got the same thing as her; she’d left the leftovers on the island in the kitchen in case anyone wanted them, and she’s glad to see the rice and maybe-chicken won’t go to waste. “Just zeroed in on him with that visor and Winston was like ‘okay, fine, maybe she doesn’t have to be here’. Quality entertainment, ten out of ten. Is Overwatch always like this?”  
  
“In my experience, yes,” Hana says, and it’s nice to know that conversing with Lúcio in person is just as easy as conversing with him online.  
  
“Now that’s a harsh assessment,” McCree drawls as Lúcio cracks up.  
  
“I am not wrong.”  
  
“No,” McCree agrees, grinning easy and slow, “You’re not wrong.”  
  
“I told you,” Hana says to Lúcio, lifting her chin in the air, and her friend laughs harder. She can’t help the smile that curls her lips and the heavy weight coiled in her chest loosens, at least a little bit. This is nice. She could get used to this, as she returns her attention to her meal.  
  
“You and Soldier are pretty close,” McCree says with an absent smile as Lúcio works himself down to giggling, sipping at his coffee again. Hana watches the cowboy as she munches; he’s dangerous, she knows, he’s been watching 76 like a hawk ever since they’d come in, he's testing her reaction. “You sure you ain’t related?”  
  
“He is Caucasian, I am Korean,” Hana says primly. “It is not rocket science.”  
  
“Doesn’t have to be by blood,” McCree points out.  
  
“You are stupid,” Hana informs him, a bit more acidly than she originally intended but too late now. Lúcio snickers as McCree’s eyes widen and he puts a hand to his heart, mock-offended, and Hana goes on, “Besides, the way you phrased your question implies you already know we are not related. Who exactly are you trying to convince?”  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” McCree answers, which is weird and cryptic and somehow very McCree. “Actually, remind me t’tell you about the time I tricked Lena into believing Reyes - Gabriel Reyes, first Strike-Commander of Overwatch - into believing he and I were related.”  
  
“What?” Lúcio laughs.  
  
“I know, it was an outrage, lemme tell ya. No way in hell I could be related to that hardass. Only thing we had in common was that we spoke Spanish and had a mean shot - ”  
  
76 walks in and Hana’s in flight between one breath and the next, leaving behind a startled-into-silence McCree and a Lúcio whose called “D.Va?” is forgotten as 76 stops and waits for her to close the distance between them. “Can we talk?” she asks, and it’s not until that moment that she realizes she’s still holding her breakfast, there’s rice on her face, and 76 is dressed in those ridiculous, thrice-starched pajamas. They’re both walking train wrecks, really, but she thinks they both already know that.  
  
In any case, he nods at her and tilts his head towards the kitchen. She guesses it wouldn’t be the first time they had a soul-searching discussion in there, but it still seems kind of anti-climactic as she follows him in, feeling Lúcio and McCree’s eyes on her back right up until she turns the corner. She perches herself on the counter next to the stove, facing the door, while 76 roots around the fridge and eventually comes up with what appears to makings of an omelette. Maybe scrambled eggs. She’s not sure.  
  
“You need me to ask questions, or you’re good with just talking?” 76 says after the silence stretches on for a few more seconds, cracking three eggs into a mug.  
  
She opens her mouth, she’s fine with just talking, of course she is, but then she stops because - well, English isn’t her first language. She can speak it just fine, but when it comes to this kind of thing she’s always fallen back on Korean words that don’t quite translate the way she wants them to, or maybe it’s her who can’t translate them properly, she’s not sure. Where does she even start? How much does she want him to know? She knows he wouldn’t think less of her, but how can she begin to talk about something she’s hidden and buried ever since she shot a bullet that killed another human?  
  
“Never talked about this before, huh,” 76 says, and Hana shuts her mouth. He’s put some water in the mug now and is stirring the eggs viciously with a fork. “It’s fine. I’ll ask questions, you answer if you feel like it.” He reaches up and removes his visor, his back to the door in case anyone walks in, and Jack Morrison glances over his shoulder and meets her eyes with his blue ones. “No rush, Hana.”  
  
“Okay,” she says, because she’s not sure what else there is to say.  
  
He looks back towards the mug and the saucepan that’s now on the stove, the one she hadn’t seen him grab, and then he pours some vegetable oil onto the pan, quickly followed by the egg-water mixture. It looks kind of disgusting, but that’s probably because Hana doesn’t like omelettes.  
  
“Remember, don’t have to answer unless you want to,” 76 says, before he grabs a spatula and stares at the omelette like it might flip up and hit his face or something. “You ready?”  
  
“Yes.”

There's a slight pause before he speaks again. “All right. How long have you been having episodes like this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please note that i do NOT have professional training when it comes to hashing out stuff like this. like, i'm not a therapist. or a psychologist.
> 
> ah, and today is a two-update day! gird your loins: the next chapter's gonna be a bit of an emotional roller-coaster. c:
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- mccree, tracer, and genji, separate, are tolerable. together, they are asshats. back in blackwatch, reyes spent many a day screaming at them in spanish because of whatever prank they had pulled that day  
> \-  consequently, mccree and tracer were the only ones who could pull genji out a funk back in the day   
> \- lúcio, upon discovering that 76 has perfect pitch, follows him around for weeks begging him to help him out with music. 76, having the musical knowledge of a tone-deaf toddler and a voice that could be compared to rubbing a cheese grater on the inside of one's ears, completely ignores him after hour three  
> \- reinhardt is hella good at shadow puppets  
> \- zenyatta occasionally goes out on the roof of the buildings and sits still until seagulls come sit on him. he likes animals a lot okay  
> \- hana is very good with numbers and mathematics, which is why she was so good at video games. she often studied opponents to detect patterns and mannerisms before going up against them  
> \- mercy has gone skydiving once and _never again_  
>  \- when symmetra and junkrat join up, torby proposes the 'lost an arm' club. it passes muster after mccree renames it 'lost an arm but still fab' club. nothing gets done because torby and symmetra never stop arguing about whose schematics are better  
> \- winston is scarily good at hide-and-seek


	38. trust fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana talks. 76 listens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a beauteous day today!

76’s question is a simple one. She knows the answer immediately, but she still hesitates before she says it out loud. She didn’t think talking to someone about this would be so hard, but - her brain is running at a million kilometers per hour about everything that might happen if she does. She knows that 76 wouldn’t make fun of her, she knows that she can trust him, she _knows_ it, but somehow forcing the words out of her throat is so hard because it’s part of her she’s never once allowed to see the light of day. Why would she? No one knows her for Hana, they know her for D.Va; even Lúcio, she’ll be great friends with him, of that she has no doubt, but he only knows her by her celebrity status. Her handler called her Song, her MEKA squadmates called her D.Va, everyone around the world knows her by her winning smirk and cute wink and finger pistol combination - no one knows her for Hana but 76.  
  
She almost wishes the room was dark so he couldn’t see her face, couldn’t see her shame. But his back is to her and he is intensely focused on the omelette and there is absolutely no way he hasn’t deal with this kind of thing before. There’s no way, not when he’s giving her privacy and patiently waiting for her to gather her thoughts, and somehow that’s enough for her to exhale hard, the words tumbling out in a rush.  
  
“Two - three years ago. When I was sixteen.”  
  
He nods. The muscles in his neck coil and loosen with the motion, and he flips the omelette with ease. She’s almost surprised he doesn’t put anything on it but a lot of salt. “You know what triggers it or no?”  
  
( _Blood. Killing. They’re dead because of you -_ )  
  
“The first one happened after I shot a protestor,” Hana says. Her voice comes out small but matter-of-fact. “My squad leader told us to gun everyone down, so we did.”  
  
“Killing people is the trigger?”  
  
“Killing humans,” Hana clarifies.  
  
“Why not omnics?”  
  
“No blood.” This is so much easier than trying to explain it out loud, but she feels terrible because she’s making him play twenty questions when he doesn’t even know what he’s trying to guess.  
  
“Is blood the only trigger?”  
  
“I - ” It isn’t, she thinks. Maybe? “I am not sure.”  
  
“Certain words?”  
  
She feels like he knows more about her than she does. It’s… not entirely unwelcome, but it’s still weird. “Maybe.”  
  
“Whenever someone mentions those who fell,” and what an artistic way of putting it, she thinks wryly, “You tend to shut down, just for a moment. People notice besides me.”  
  
“What?” she says without thinking, “No, no, no,” that’s the last thing she wants, she doesn’t want people to know about this, because then they’d look at her and they’d look _down_ on her, they would treat her like spun glass and she isn’t spun glass, and - and these feelings are so conflicting and she feels simultaneously spring-loaded and exhausted. Why can’t she just _stop_?  
  
“Only if they’re looking. McCree, Genji - maybe Zenyatta. Not everyone.” The omelette slips onto a plate. He puts more salt on it, the heathen. “Do the words always trigger you?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“No as in they don’t, or - ”  
  
“Not always.”  
  
He grunts. He circles around until he can lean against the island, visor tucked under his arm as he takes a fork to his salty monstrosity. His back is to the door, still, ever-cautious and vigilant. “When do they?”  
  
“When I can still see it in my mind,” Hana says, keeping her eyes carefully forward instead of closing them. Closing them invites darkness, invites a screen on which the montage can play. “When it is fresh.”  
  
“This has been going on for three years?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“And you never talked about it with anyone.”  
  
The shame hits her like a tidal wave; she’s weak and pathetic and why didn’t she talk to someone about this sooner? _Because I was afraid._ No, that isn’t right; _because then people would think I am weak._ There it is. She sets her jaw and clenches her fingers around the side of the countertop, hard enough it hurts. She’s D.Va, strong and sassy and professional at her job, laughing when her mech beeps red in her ear and effortlessly taking down her enemies as those viewing her stream clamor for bloodshed. She does not show weakness because - because people would think less of her, and -  
  
and she is so tired of her thoughts running in circles. “No.”  
  
He makes a sound that isn’t a grunt and isn’t a sigh, something in-between, and she braces herself: it’s pity, it has to be, as he sets his plate down on the island counter and moves until he’s standing next to her instead.  
  
“Thank you for trusting me with this,” he says, and Hana feels something break, almost; she has to look down at her knees so he doesn’t see her face contorting to hold back tears. “You’re not alone.”  
  
It sounds so much like Dr. Ziegler. At first it makes her angry - he must be working with the doctor to pick her apart, to see how she ticks - but seconds later, she’s just so cold and heavy and her limbs don't want to move. He wouldn’t do that; he and Dr. Ziegler rarely exchanged more than ten words at a time, directly to each other at least. Then she remembers that she’s talking to Jack Morrison, hero and commander of Overwatch, and that maybe, maybe the reason he sounds so much like Dr. Ziegler is because the doctor told him the same thing once, a long time ago. Hana will probably never know for sure.  
  
“I am so tired,” she whispers after a few moments.  
  
“I know.”  
  
She’s not sure if it’s a conscious decision when she holds her arms out to him, and it’s a little awkward because she’s sitting on the counter and he’s standing, but it’s warm, and it’s familiar, and somehow it feels safe. Home away from home, or something, she’s not sure, but she just presses her face against his shoulder as he holds her to him and keeps her crying to soft little hiccups, because she’s bared enough of her soul today and she’s drawing the line at this. This is enough, she won’t ask for more, this is more than she could have ever expected and - and this is enough. She’s fine. She’s okay.

She never wants to let go.  
  
It’s only a knock at the kitchen door that makes Hana pull away, sniffling as she wipes at her eyes. She hadn’t put mascara on but no doubt the tears ruined her makeup anyway; she takes out her compact mirror with her battle stripe paint in it to fix what she can as 76 puts his visor back on and goes over to let whoever it is inside. Not that it matters, since both he and Hana can hear McCree’s spurs jingling even before the door is fully open.  
  
“Pardon me,” the cowboy says, and that’s it. Hana keeps herself turned away and braces for an interrogation as McCree opens the dishwasher, puts his mug inside, and closes it, and then he says, “D.Va, Soldier,” maybe tips his hat or whatever dumb thing he does when saying goodbye to people, and he’s gone.  
  
She feels light. And crushed. And tired, and unhappy, and nervous, but - but she also feels stable. She feels like what Hana should feel, if a bit shaky. 76 said she wasn’t alone. Maybe… maybe having others know about this isn’t a bad thing. Maybe.  
  
“Sorry,” Hana whispers, as 76 puts his plate in the sink.  
  
“Hana,” he says, turning towards her, walking close so he can put both hands on her shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for.”  
  
“I am going to cry again,” she sniffs, and then she wipes her eyes again and continues dabbing at her face so she can look presentable enough to make a quick escape through the mess hall to her room, and then she mumbles, “ _Gomapseumnida_.”  
  
She can’t see him smile. But she still musters a wobbly one of her own in return, when he says in a rumble, “You’re always welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm actually basing this whole discussion on how i felt when i told my dad about just my anxiety and depression that almost drove me over the brink when i was seventeen. it was, simultaneously, one of the most terrifying and wondrous moments of my life.
> 
> don't wait to get help, friends; sometimes it just doesn't find you on your own. i promise that things do get better, but you've gotta ask before things will come to you, which is so, so scary and so, so hard - but also reality.
> 
> on a less serious note, headcanons:
> 
> \- close friends may occasionally call genji 'sparrow'. people who call him this and who are not close friends with him are typically never seen again.  
> \- zenyatta often consults his fellow omnic friends on how best to out-meme reinhardt as time wears on  
> \- if tracer had vine her vines would be phenomenal  
> \- an installment in 'a day in blackwatch' series. "do it for the vine genj" "no" "c'mon genj please" "go away lena" "do it for me genj c'mon do it" genji sighs heavily. he turns around and starts scaling the cliff at gibraltar, tracer shouts "go get 'em you beautiful green sparrow" you can just barely hear genji yell back halfway up the cliff " _lena i'm going to kill you_ " over the crashing waves  
> \- an installment in 'a day in blackwatch' series. "jesse let's go clothes shopping!!" camera change shows mccree coming out of the changing room in a dress and tracer yelling "you're a handsome bloke jesse mccree!" mccree winks at the camera and poses and in the background a sales clerk looks like they're about shit a bucket. camera change shows the sales clerk helping mccree lace up a corset. sales clerk looks like they want to die  
> \- another installment in 'a day in blackwatch' series. vine shows gabe and mccree screaming at each other in spanish as tracer whispers "is this how they flirt?? more at eleven" the rest of the vine is tracer is running from gabe screaming "IT WAS A JOKE I'M SORRY COMMANDER" gabe is yelling in spanish again, you can barely hear mccree shout "you think he calls jack _pendejo_ in bed??" as he's left alone in gabe's office. gabe screams louder  
>  \- another installment in 'a day in blackwatch' series. "hey ana" " _tozz feek_ lena what is it" "hey ana could you shoot a sleep dart in that guy's arse" "why" "it'll be funny ana c'mon" "i. ok. but only if you go down there and finish him off" last two seconds show tracer screaming "OOOOOOOH" with camera zooming in and out on a dart in sleeping guy's butt  
>  \- "reinhardt loves memes" tracer whispers. camera changes to show reinhardt walking down the hallway and tracer yells "HEY LISTEN TO THIS". reinahardt stops in the hallway next to her. [this](http://cyberworm-txt.tumblr.com/post/98625489269) starts playing. reinhardt roars and tracer screams as he breaks the bluetooth speaking she's holding  
> \- "HEY SYMMETRA" "what are you doing - " "SYMMETRA JUNKRAT MESSED UP YOUR WORKSHOP AGAIN" "HE DID WHAT" camera change shows junkrat and torby screeching in varying levels of fury as symmetra systematically organizes the entire workshop including their own benches. tracer is giggling maniacally in the background. junkrat and torby have been trapped with hard-light handcuffs to keep them from interfering. just as the vine ends you see symmetra muffle junkrat and torby with some hard-light gag or something  
> \- vine shows mercy quietly extricating peanut butter from the fridge. camera changes to what appears to be a few hours later. winston opens the fridge, roots around, yells "ANGELA WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS" the camera flips around to show mercy and tracer high-fiving as winston continues to yell  
> \- "hey zarya do you think you could bench press winston??" "HELL YES WATCH THIS" winston screams as zarya runs over and picks him up with a yell of "FOR RUSSIA" in the background you can see d.va and lúcio losing their shit  
> \- fuck dude someone should make a series of tracer making vines is this my true calling??  
> \- i'm not even going to do more headcanons tell me your tracer vines GO


	39. i shape order from chaos; fall in line or fall behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Symmetra makes an entrance. Lúcio is not happy about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made a [tumblr post with all of the vine ideas](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/post/148959010940/if-tracer-made-vines). they are fantastic. i love them so much. i love all of you so much!! <3
> 
> have a marvelous day today!

Symmetra shows up without fanfare a few hours later. Hana had hidden away in her room after her conversation with 76 - to which she had apologized profusely, but he just tilted his head and told her to take all the time she needed, and it’s still strange to have someone care for her well-being so unconditionally - and that is where she stays, playing some old game in her files for kicks and giggles, when the Vishkar agent enters Gibraltar. She knows the woman’s arrived because Winston calls a meeting a few minutes later, and so she gets up with a sigh, trots to her bathroom to fix her makeup, and then exits her room and knocks on 76’s door so they walk down together.  
  
“Do you think Lúcio will show?” Hana asks 76 as he meets her - dressed in civvies, jeans and a white shirt with his stupid jacket on top. When did he get those? Maybe he was smart and ordered clothes online, too.  
  
“Mm-hm.” He shuts his door and they set off at a brisk walk. “Pretty sure he’s going to do something stupid. Might have to sit next to him.”  
  
Hana thinks back at Lúcio’s adamance back in Rio and agrees, a bit uneasily, “That is probably for the best.”  
  
The conference room is already mostly full by the time the two of them arrive. Lúcio greets her with a grin and immediately begins talking about the soundtrack of some game he’d just found as she takes the spot next to him, 76 the one next to her; he’s seemingly unaware of the purpose of this meeting, which might be good, because it’s unlikely he would have showed up otherwise, but. If he notices how 76 and Hana are both sitting close, he doesn’t comment and instead keeps chattering. Strange to think he’s seven years older than her, really, as he easily engages Reinhardt in conversation; she and he are so very different.  
  
Then again, 76 had told her that a lot could change in a short period of time. He’s probably right.  
  
Symmetra is the last one to come in to the room, with Tracer chattering gaily at her side. She’s smiling, too, a small thing that just barely curves her lips upward, and then she sits near the front, next to Dr. Ziegler, as Winston takes the floor and Tracer blinks over to her spot to the gorilla's left. Lúcio had fallen silent as soon as the woman walked into the room and is glaring daggers; Symmetra is systematically ignoring him.  
  
“All right, everyone,” Winston says, eyeing Lúcio in a way that screams _this probably won't end well_ , “I’ll let our newest addition introduce herself.”  
  
It’s completely unnecessary, but an expectant hush falls over the group nonetheless as all eyes turn to the Vishkar agent. She takes it in stride; Hana starts counting the seconds until Lúcio blows up. “I am Symmetra. While I am not officially a part of Overwatch, I look forward to working together with you to further your and Vishkar’s mutual goals - ”  
  
“ _Mutual goals_?” And there it is. Hana curls a hand around Lúcio’s elbow and holds him down in his seat, digging her fingers into his skin. He flashes her only a cursory, disapproving look before all attention is back on Symmetra. “Vishkar has no mutual goals with Overwatch. _None_.”  
  
“We seek to create a world of order and harmony. Overwatch seeks peace. The two are not mutually exclusive,” Symmetra says coolly. She sounds completely unfazed. She also looks completely unfazed as she says, derisively, “Street rabble would like you would likely not understand.”  
  
“Street rab - _I’m_ the rabble?” Lúcio surges to his feet in a single, fluid motion. Hana manages, at the last second, to keep her nails from cutting through his skin; when she looks at 76, he shakes his head, so she doesn’t follow her friend up. “ _I’m_ the rabble when Vishkar _destroyed my home_?”  
  
“We did not destroy anything worthwhile.” Eesh. Now Hana and McCree trade uneasy glances, as do many around the table.  
  
“You destroyed my _culture_. That faleva was not yours to just - to just toy with! People _lived_ there, people liked - ”  
  
“People lived in squalor in that slum,” Symmetra says, flinty, unmovable. Glacial.  
  
“It was by our own rules! We were free! _You_ took that away from us - ”  
  
“Freedom must be sacrificed for the greater good.”  
  
“ _What_?”  
  
“You do not understand our vision of the future - of the greatness that we will build for those who have yet to be born.” Symmetra stares Lúcio down. “Vishkar looks beyond for those who willfully turn a blind eye.”  
  
“You - do you know what my people went through? Forced curfews? Violence if we resisted? People _died_ when you built your cities from our ashes, and you did nothing to help them!”  
  
“Our constructs allow them to live idyllic lives,” Symmetra says, and her voice is colder than ice as she, too, finally rises to her feet. That snaps Hana into action, as she jumps up and forcibly loops her arm around Lúcio’s neck, tugging him down, and though he fights her, and though he’s stronger, she’s the one with military training; she manages to wrestle him out of his seat and slowly drag him towards the door.  
  
76 gives her a nod and a little hand gesture that roughly translated to _good luck_. She grimaces back and ignores how everyone in the room is looking at them - mostly her, she’s guessing. They seemed surprised that she’s not totally incompetent without her mech, if she had to put a label on everyone’s expressions.  
  
“You used your sound technology to _control_ us - to keep us obedient, like sheep, like - ” and here Lúcio stops to take a breath, digging his heels into the ground so Hana has to heft harder with a small grunt - “And you have the nerve to tell us our lives are _idyllic_ ‽”  
  
“I shape order from chaos,” Symmetra says. Her luminous eyes are narrowed, but otherwise her face is perfectly expressionless. It makes it all the more unsettling when she says, deathly quiet, “Fall in line - or fall _behind_.”  
  
Hana palms open the door, spares Winston the barest of nods that he returns with a pinched expression, and throws Lúcio over her hip. She follows him quickly and shuts the door behind her, and then it’s just her and him, breathing hard, her hands on her knees as Lúcio slowly gets up from the floor. She watches silently as he stands.

He’s shorter than her, but his expression is dark and angry and intimidating as he says, in a low, dangerous voice, “Move.”  
  
She lifts her chin, straightens her spine, stares him down. “No.”  
  
He tries to shove her aside. She grabs his arm, twists it, flips him to the floor again. It’s been a while since she’s performed the motions, but she remembers being on the mat, hitting the mat, throwing others to the mat like it was yesterday; 76 saw to that.  
  
“D.Va,” he grits out as he climbs to his feet, and she feels a flicker of guilt at the beginnings of a bruise on his elbow, not nearly enough to overwhelm the sheer exasperation in her chest.  
  
“Control yourself, Lúcio,” she answers, crossing her arms. She watches his fist rise and bats it away when he lets the punch fly, looping her arm around it and dropping to a seat, forcing him to sit with her. He struggles to escape her grip as she lets out a sigh. “You will only make things worse, you know,” she tells him. Lúcio gives her a dirty look, and she clarifies a bit unnecessarily, “If you yell and shout at her. She is not the entirety of Vishkar. She is a pawn.”  
  
“She’s one of their top agents,” Lúcio spits, but at least he stops fighting her, hunching over his constricted shoulder. She doesn’t let go, not yet, even though she knows firsthand how much it must hurt. “She was directly involved in what happened in Rio. She can’t just get away with all the _merda_ she did.”  
  
Hana sighs. He’s angry. He’s not going to see reason anytime soon. “What makes you the best qualified to make her pay?”  
  
“ _I live there_.”  
  
“And she almost killed me,” Hana points out.  
  
“She killed hundreds of _my_ people,” Lúcio seethes. “Those who survived rallied around _me_. That was the only reason we were able to drive Vishkar out.”  
  
Okay, time to change tactics. What would 76 do in this situation? Probably offer him cookies. (Maybe a bag of sliced apples.) Hana doesn’t have cookies (or apples). She’ll have to settle for something else.  
  
“Look,” Hana says, “I understand that this is a terrible, awful situation. And I recognize that you have every right to be angry, and I know that you want to hurt her.” She holds up a hand to hold off Lúcio’s inevitable tirade, and it’s a bit of a surprise when he actually closes his mouth, especially so as she points out, “But I cannot let you harm her. The ramifications would be... _very_ bad.”  
  
Because Hana knows how politics work. She’s been paraded about by the South Korean army as a pretty face with a spirited personality to match. People sexualized her, people idolized her, people threatened her, they still do - but above all, she was and is a public figure. Her actions in the military were severely restricted; everything she said on stream had to be written out beforehand. She never spoke against her country. She encouraged people who had already served their required military time to reenlist. If she ever took a single step out a line, suddenly the government had to run about to keep a scandal from leaking, and suddenly her few freedoms were taken away.  
  
She’s been famous for three years. She knows how much public opinion can sway an entire country’s fate. But Lúcio…  
  
Lúcio’s a celebrity. So is Vishkar, in a way. Though their conflict is well-known and everyone would expect him to attack the corporation whenever possible, he is with Overwatch now - and Overwatch would be severely debilitated without Vishkar’s offer. The U.N. would only see the organization’s actions to be terroristic in nature if Overwatch had to claim responsibility for what happened in Rio de Janeiro; the Petras Act would be followed rather than struck down. However much Lúcio dislikes Vishkar for all they have done and all they stand for, Overwatch cannot afford negative public attention. And if Vishkar learned that its liaison had been harmed - well, they would strike, consequences be damned, and Hana knows firsthand what it’s like to be at the brunt of a social attack.  
  
Lúcio’s not stupid. She can see these exact thoughts running through his mind as she stares him down, wordless, and after a few long, long seconds, he sags in her grip and she lets him go.  
  
“Yeah,” he says, rubbing a hand against a temple. “Yeah, you’re right. I forget that... Sorry, _cara_.”  
  
“I will only let you back in once you promise me you will hold your tongue and you will not strike.”  
  
“Don't tell me shit I already - ” and he stops. Breathes. Empathy makes her lips curve downwards; she understands the struggle, she really does, and she knows that he realizes this, too. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll shut up. And tolerate her, I guess. If I have to.”  
  
“You do,” she says, jumping to her feet. When she offers him a hand, he takes it and lets go as soon as he’s up. “Thank you, Lúcio.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” he says with a self-deprecating smile. “Thank me for being a big selfish idiot. You’re too cool for this world, D.Va.”  
  
“That is one way to put it,” Hana says, and with firm nod - she’s sure he’ll behave, she can see it in his expression - she palms the door open and, together, they step inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll have you know that i can now swear in portuguese, hindi, german, swedish, japanese, arabic, korean, and, eventually, i will also know how to swear in russian and chinese. (i'm fluent in french and english so those two are a given!) i'll also have you know that this information will be useful about 1% of the time in my life only because of this fic.
> 
> bee-tee-dubs, if you missed it in the beginning notes: i made a [tumblr post with all of the vine ideas](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/post/148959010940/if-tracer-made-vines). they are fantastic. i love them so much. i love all of you so much <3
> 
> (also, the responses last chapter were very touching and wonderful c: hopefully this gives you an idea on how hard it is to ask for help when you're not doing the best!)
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- mercy can play a mean violin  
> \- symmetra eventually teaches some members of overwatch how to dance after enough people (junkrat) ask about it (i'm not sure if blizzard ever told us the name of the traditional dance she uses to construct her hard-light stuff??)  
> \- tracer is very good at mixing drinks, but she usually makes names up instead of their actual names so mccree has to ask for like 'yaoi hands on the beach' or whatever and tracer is laughing her ass off the entire time she's making it  
> \- hana bites her nails  
> \- 76 is so good at cutting up fruit that he usually doesn't have to look at his hands or the knife while he does it  
> \- genji is the kind of tourist that takes a ton of pictures of his friends when they aren't looking. he often catches embarrassing moments on film because no on can ever tell _when_ he's taking pictures. only problem with this is that there's never any pictures of him, but he kind of prefers it to be that way, really  
>  \- zenyatta can float upside-down and there are no downsides to this except that people stare  
> \- torby has like six pillows on his bed  
> \- lúcio is not big on being touched. it's only when he gives permission that he's comfortable, otherwise he'll tolerate it and laugh but on the inside he's just kind of quietly going 'stop touching me stop touching me stop touching me'  
> \- young mccree was actually very withdrawn and private. it took a lot of coaxing from reyes and repeated attempts to be friends by tracer to get him to open up. like, a lot. like months of this.  
> \- winston's guilty pleasure: bananas dipped in peanut butter  
> \- reinhardt is super good at yoga, which is why he's still able to move without splitting his back or whatever despite his age


	40. not everyone here is out for blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana talks to some people. Ruffled feathers get smoothed, at least a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you have a magnificent day today! c:

The room is quiet when Lúcio and Hana slip back into their seats. 76 reaches out to pat Hana’s arm as she settles in, to which she flashes him a small smile, and then Lúcio is apologizing for his outburst and Symmetra has entirely no expression on her face and it’s business as usual.  
  
Hana, of course, doesn’t pay any attention to the meeting itself. Most of her focus on Lúcio - though, as she had previously suspected, he doesn’t do a single thing out of line except for the occasional dirty glance. Symmetra, meanwhile, ignores him steadfastly, making Hana think there was definitely some discussion about her behavior while she and Lúcio had been hashing it out outside the conference room. Good, she thinks. She can ask 76 about it later, if she remembers.  
  
The meeting adjourns pretty quickly afterwards, likely because the tension in the room is stifling. Lúcio skitters off, first out of the room, and Hana briefly considers following him before deciding against it; she can seek him out later and he’ll probably want some alone time. Instead she stands around until McCree is about to walk past, grabbing onto his red poncho thing before he can walk out the door. He pauses when she does so, and she has to fight down the urge to flush.  
  
“I just wanted to apologize for this morning,” she tells him, releasing her grip on his poncho thing. He raises an eyebrow; she takes that as her cue to continue. “I was not in the best place to be making conversation and I took it out on you. I am sorry.”  
  
“No worries, darlin’,” McCree says with a smile. She figured, but McCree is so damn unreadable she'd just wanted to make sure and it's with some relief that she returns his smile. “We all have our bad days. Frankly, you were downright genial in comparison to, not namin’ any names, some others.”  
  
He inclines his head. She follows its trajectory and finds Symmetra at the end of it, and at that she frowns but doesn’t comment as he tips his hat and continues out the conference room door. Winston, Tracer and Dr. Ziegler are conferring at the front of the room; otherwise, it’s only, 76 and Symmetra left.  
  
“Going down to the range,” 76 says, pausing in front of her on his way out. “Feel like joining?”  
  
“I need a bit,” she says, eyes on Symmetra, and 76, too, turns his head to spare a glance.  
  
“Be careful,” he says, and she nods, marveling again and again how weird it is that they know each other so well they can communicate entire paragraphs with just gestures - except she still manages to startle him, as he lets out a surprised  _oof_ when she darts in for a brief hug, one he returns. Then he’s gone and Symmetra is approaching the door, heels clicking on the floor. Hana steels herself and falls into step besides her, opening her mouth to say hello as the door closes behind them.  
  
“D.Va,” Symmetra says as a greeting before Hana can say anything. Her voice is frosty. “Come to regale me with stories of Vishkar’s misdeeds?”  
  
“What?” _Oh_ , Hana thinks, _it looks like I am in league with Lúcio_. Which isn’t wrong but is still woefully inaccurate, as it stands. “Oh. Er, no. I was just going to ask what you think of Overwatch so far.”  
  
Symmetra stares down at her. Hana bites her lip as she returns the unwavering stare. _Okay, so, the whole ‘let’s be friendly with all of my teammates’ thing is going to go out the window with this one, maybe?_  
  
“Are you trying to get to know me?” she says at last, and Hana kind of tilts her head because a) what and b) is that an actual question? A few seconds pass before Hana decides being straightforward is likely the best option here.  
  
“Yes,” she says. “I, um, thought you would appreciate knowing that not everyone here is out for blood.”  
  
“Ah.”

Silence. Hm. Hana flits through seven topics she could start talking about and has to dismiss all of them; Symmetra is much older than her. Well, maybe not _much_ older. She looks to be close to Lúcio's age, actually, but she probably does not like the same things Lúcio does, so she can't talk about video games (a shame). Nor would she be interested in movies, probably. Actually, how old is Symmetra? Hana makes a mental note to read up on her file and, well, now the silence has stretched past the point of awkward.

It goes on for a while longer, too, which is enough to make Hana have to restrain her hands behind her so they don't pick at her skirt, and she’s about to say something else when Symmetra finally speaks up and says, “In that case, my name is Satya Vaswani. It is good to meet you, D.Va, though I wish it had not been in such circumstances.” She lets out an almost inaudible sigh through her nose. “I lost my composure during the meeting. I would like to apologize personally for that. It was extremely disrespectful.”  
  
Hana blinks.

She’s not sure what she should be thinking here. It’s kind of strange, actually. It feels like Satya isn’t - _trying_ to be rude, intentionally? It's more like she’s just not sure how to address this sort of... thing. (What is the _thing_ , though? Now Hana's just confusing herself.) Clearly the woman had been expecting confrontation from all sides, that much had been obvious in the argument with Lúcio, but now that she’s faced with friendliness, she looks a little… lost. Hana isn’t sure to feel bad for her or not, because she knows Satya’s done some shitty things due to Lúcio’s program hacking into Vishkar archives, but at the same time - it seems unfair to judge a single person based on a whole entity like Vishkar. Like she had told Lúcio earlier, Satya is a pawn on the board, and for all that she’s cold and unmoving, everyone has feelings.  
  
And she’s given Hana her first and last name; her _real_ name. Now that Satya knows that not everyone is out to get her, she’s latched onto Hana’s friendliness almost - desperately, maybe. Hana feels a smile curve her lips upwards. She can be a friend. She’s good at that, all things considered.  
  
“My name is Hana Song, not D.Va,” she says. “It is good to meet you, Satya.” _Please don’t have any ulterior motives_ , she begs, because that would be terrible in so many ways.  
  
“The pleasure is all mine,” Satya says. She looks distinctly uncomfortable as she looks away from Hana's face, the first time since the beginning of the conversation. “I understand if you do not accept my apology. I should… I do not usually lose control. The display was shameful.”  
  
“Oh, no,” Hana says, “Do not worry about it. I was disoriented when I first came here as well.” She likely would’ve lashed out herself if 76 hadn’t acted as a buffer, and she gives Satya a smile. “It takes a bit of getting used to. People will be jumpy because they know you are here to monitor for Vishkar, too.”  
  
“You are right,” Satya says, and she frowns and she murmurs, almost like it’s a confession, “I am unsure of how to interact with people here. No one seems understands Vishkar’s goals and purpose.”  
  
“I will be honest, I do not understand them at all,” Hana says, and Satya casts her a surprised look. It’s not mean-spirited, though, more like genuine confusion, and now Hana does feel bad because how much warning did Vishkar give Satya before pushing her off to an unknown place, full of unknown people, for an unknown period of time? Given Vishkar’s penchant for absolute control, Satya has probably never had to deal with the wildcards that made up Overwatch’s roster, too. “It will take time, but I am sure people will come around.”  
  
Satya purses her lips before nodding, once, like she’s come to a decision. “I understand.” She turns her head to look down at Hana. “Thank you, miss Song.”  
  
“Hana,” she says. “Please.” Satya nods, looking almost as emotionless as before but, at least, a lot less lost. Hana feels better about leaving her to wander around on her own - not to say, of course, that Satya isn’t being monitored twenty-four seven by Athena, but it’s the thought that counts. “I have to go practice at the range with 76 now. I will see you at dinner?”  
  
“I - yes,” Satya says. “I will be there.”  
  
She returns Hana’s wave and, well, that discussion could have gotten a whole lot worse as she begins to make her way to the training ranges. Hana counts it as a win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hana covered some bases here: calmed down lúcio from his yelling, apologized to mccree for being a bit too sassy, and figured out that symmetra is lost and a little scared and not actively trying to antagonize people. whoo!
> 
> also, i just learned that my new computer shipped today _maybe_ and now it's a question of whether it will arrive in time for me leaving for college ;-;
> 
> also also, symmetra reminds me so much of one of my siblings that it's kind of nuts c: makes her easier to write at least!
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- hana can take down at least half of overwatch's roster if you put her on a mat with no weapons except her hands  
> \- mercy has nanobots directly embedded into her body, despite the dangers  
> \- tracer, whenever she can sweet-talk Athena into letting her control the intercom, plays karaoke music all throughout base. she has just enough variety that everyone can sing along to one of the songs at some point, and usually that means later that day is karaoke night  
> \- symmetra is the most well-versed in stealth and espionage, even in comparison to genji and hanzo; she can sneak around just about anywhere without being detected (and in heels, no less)  
> \- lúcio tries to get overwatch to play hockey games with him, but the rules are quickly spun out of control based on everyone's respective abilities and skills. in the end it kind of ends up like [calvinball](http://calvinandhobbes.wikia.com/wiki/Calvinball) except, you know, hockey-style  
> \- reinhardt can sing opera  
> \- torby and mccree like to garden together, which is a big part in why they are still friends even when they're arguing about omnic rights  
> \- winston loves games like no man's sky. he doesn't get much time to play them due to him being de facto leader of overwatch, but tracer and genji and mccree usually force him to take a break and watch him play these kinds of games  
> \- 76 never interacted much with genji back in blackwatch days, but he becomes good friends with both him and zenyatta as time passes  
> \- then again, no one can hate zenyatta except those who hate omnics


	41. i don't shoot and tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana and 76 banter. Hana and McCree argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a momentous day today!

76 isn’t the only person at the training ranges when Hana gets there. Torbjörn and Reinhardt are in range one when Hana peeks in - she thinks they’re testing out some new modifications of Reinhardt’s armor - and Tracer and Genji are in range two, locked in a simulation against numerous bots; all she can see are green and blue blurs as bots are destroyed and swept away, and while she’d like to watch, she knows she has to keep going. 76 isn’t in range three, surprisingly. Instead she sees McCree fanning the hammer on his revolver as Dr. Ziegler watches. Maybe she’s running maintenance on McCree’s arm?  
  
It’s telling that almost all of Overwatch’s original members are training on what should be their day off. Hana muses on this as she palms into training range four of five, just as 76 raises a hand to his tactical visor and opens fire on all the hapless bots in the range. It’s over in a matter of seconds, and he straightens up and looks over to her as she enters with a wave.  
  
“How’d it go?” he asks instead of a hello, clicking the used magazine out of his rifle and replacing it with a new one before swinging it over his shoulder and walking over.  
  
“With Symmetra?” At his nod, she says, “She told me her real name.”  
  
He raises his eyebrows. She shrugs, and he says, “Interesting.”  
  
“I do not suppose someone told her to not be so argumentative while I was outside with Lúcio?”  
  
“Me,” 76 says, and what a surprise that is. “Short and sweet. Kind of just told her to shut up unless she had something nice to say.”  
  
“Wow,” she says, “It is little wonder that you are single.”  
  
76 doesn’t say anything right away and Hana immediately makes a mental note not to bring it up again; somehow, somewhere, she’s hit a sore spot, though he doesn’t let it affect him for longer than a heartbeat. “Winston repeated it in prettier words,” he informs her, slightly smug. “I took initiative. If I hadn’t, I don’t think anyone would’ve said anything.”  
  
“And for that I am very grateful,” Hana says. “The meeting might have otherwise gone much worse.”  
  
“Still one for the books,” 76 says, and, well, he would know. “She tell you anything else during your chat?”  
  
“Not really. I will be eating with her at dinner tonight, though. I feel bad for her, a little.”  
  
It sounds a bit like a test when he says, “Even with the things she did?”  
  
“Politics are complicated, but I would have to be an idiot to miss how she is just one piece in Vishkar’s chessboard,” Hana says, and she’s proud of how poetic that sounds.  
  
He grunts. Whatever test the question had been, she had passed. She doubts that he would have done anything if she had failed, though, in all honesty. “True. Still. Stay vigilant.”  
  
“A bit ironic, coming from you.”  
  
“Har har. Promise you’ll be careful.”  
  
“Yes, dad,” Hana says, rolling her eyes.  
  
76, to his credit, doesn’t react to the name and instead pushes on. “That didn’t sound like a promise.”  
  
She holds up a pinky. After a moment, he does as well, wrapping his around hers, and as soon as he has she says, “Pinky swear,” grinning victoriously when it makes him chuckle, just a little bit. “Relax. There are few who can out-maneuver me when it comes to mind games.”  
  
“Even in the thick of battle?”  
  
“That is different,” she says with a sniff, knowing very well that in a fight she focuses on the immediate rather than the long-term; that’s the whole point of being D.Va, to not dwell on what she’s doing, to not consider the consequences of her actions. Nevertheless, it earns her another chuckle, and with a flush of embarrassment she demands, “Are you going to teach me how to shoot better or no?”  
  
“You got your gun?”  
  
“Obviously,” she says, patting her hip. If she learned anything from her travels with 76, it’s that being unarmed can be equated with being dead.  
  
“All right. Let’s see your form.”  
  
It’s a compliment that 76 doesn’t offer much in advice or critique, instead watching her silently as she empties her gun, reloads, and repeats the motions again - but, as always, he occasionally reaches out to adjust her form, lifting her elbow or pushing at her shoulder or nudging his foot against hers until she shifts. She’s learned not to let it distract her, instead focusing in on emptying a clip, unloading and reloading the next, firing again. She can see why 76 once commented that this was what he did when he was tense; the pattern is relaxing, if nothing else.  
  
“Pardon me,” someone calls after a few minutes of this. It shocks Hana out of her focus; she misses the target by a good three meters and, when she turns her head, she's a little miffed to see that it’s just McCree. He gives her an apologetic smile as he says, “Angel needs t’talk to ya, Soldier.”  
  
“What for?” 76 asks, briefly touching Hana’s shoulder before walking over to the cowboy.  
  
“Think she just wants to check in your leg, from back when we were gettin’ Torb outta Russia.”  
  
“That’s unnecessary,” 76 says, which is probably true, considering how he had easily handled himself in Rio de Janeiro.  
  
“It’s best not to cross her.”  
  
That gets a snort out of both 76 and Hana, thought 76 recovers quickly and says, “I’ll take your word for it. You good on your own, Hana?”  
  
“Not a child,” she choruses.  
  
“Can’t hurt to ask.” 76 turns to McCree. “She said where to meet her?”  
  
McCree jerks a thumb at the door. “She’s in range three.”  
  
“Acknowledged.”  
  
Hana returns 76's wave as he walks out of the range, and then it’s just her and McCree. She’s… she gets the sense that something is going to happen, a coil of dread knotting in her stomach, and she absently readjusts the grip on her gun as she brings it up to shoulder-height, steadying it with her left hand. It’s not that McCree would hurt her, he would never, but the way he’s striding towards her with that smile strikes her as suspicious.  
  
“So, darlin’,” he says, flipping his hat off of his head and putting it on hers instead. She makes a wordless exclamation in protest as her next shot goes wide, pushing the hat up to glare at him accusingly. “Mind if I ask ya somethin’?”  
  
“Depends on what it is,” she says, lining up the shot again and firing four times in succession. Each hits the target, clustered about near the top.  
  
“Ain’t no way to ask this nicely, so, uh, don’t panic.” That’s not promising. She puts her gun down, tilts his hat so it’s not blocking her eyes, and stares at him. His smile is - different. Small, flinty, almost, and she readies herself for the worst because there’s no way this isn’t about - “76, he’s Jack, ain’t he?”  
  
There it is, she thinks dimly, her blood chilling in her veins, even as she furrows her brow and says confusedly, “Jack Morrison?”  
  
“That’s the one.”  
  
“Jack Morrison is not alive,” she says, and it takes so little effort to give him a concerned look. “Are you sure you did not hit your head somewhere? Even if I knew who 76 was, it is impossible to be someone who is dead.”  
  
“Don’t lie to me, darlin’,” McCree says, one hand on his revolver. He’s… threatening her. Maybe her previous assessment that the cowboy would never hurt her was wrong. “Interrogation was always one of my strong suits.”  
  
“Teenagers are notorious for being rebellious,” she answers, unable to stop herself from quipping. McCree doesn’t laugh, so she sighs inwardly and decides it might be best to intersperse some truth in her words. “There is nothing to know, either way. He has two scars on his face, he is old, and his vision is not perfect - that is what the visor is for. I do not know anything else.”  
  
“Hana,” McCree says, and his voice is very, very quiet. The revolver is still in its holster, but now his fingers are wrapped around the stock, and she watches this with a small, quivering sense of terror. “You’re foolin’ no one, you know.”  
  
Hana stares at him. He stares back, amber eyes narrowed slightly. She notices, detached, that he’s drawn his revolver out of his holster, and that’s when Hana narrows her eyes and she will _not_ be the underdog here if she has anything to say about it.  
  
“I really have no idea what you are talking about, but as it appears you are about to harm me for no reason, I apologize in advance,” she says.

He blinks at her, thrown off guard, and that is when she whips her gun up and shoots his revolver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmmmmMMMMMM.
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- many former blackwatch agents make up talon's ranks  
> \- the only reason hana manages to actually shoot at mccree is because he had no reason to believe she would actually do something like it  
> \- hana does not take insults well  
> \- she's not that great of a sport when she loses, actually, which usually doesn't matter because she usually doesn't lose  
> \- mccree has forgotten that young people can be extremely unpredictable, given how they don't have as many life experiences to fall back upon


	42. the man’s dead and I’m not about to try and follow his act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana and McCree duke it out in a way that involves not actually duking it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the reactions last chapter were precious. all y'all are too cute, have i ever told you that? you are all adorable and i love each and every one of you <3 (also, holy comments section batman. we're over a thousand now!!)
> 
> have a delightful day today!

McCree’s revolver skitters away from him on the floor and Hana’s in motion, tripping over McCree’s extended foot and turning it into a roll so she reaches the revolver first. McCree’s hat drops off of her head as she looks it over; the gun’s empty, she notices, which is probably for the best as she tucks it into the waistline of her skirt. It’s not ideal that she’s wearing civvies right now, but she can make it work as she dodges around McCree’s arm and uses the momentum from her running to jump over the divider between the range and the practice space.  
  
“Yer really not makin’ your case more convincin’ this way, ya know,” McCree shouts to her as he darts towards a side panel and types something. The arena around her shifts in place and she curses; he’s inputted a course with a ton of walls, almost like a maze. She’ll never be able to see where he’s coming from with this much cover everywhere, and so she races through towards the back to get as much distance between them as possible. “I mean, I expected denial, but this is a bit extreme, ya know what I mean?”  
  
“Excellent,” she mutters sarcastically once she reaches the back wall, ignoring McCree completely in favor of taking out his revolver in her left hand. It’s heavier than she would have expected, solid and dependable, and it’s both lucky and terrible she has no ammo for it. She looks at it for a few moments before tucking it into a corner against the back wall, out of sight for the most part, and then she lets out a breath and takes off her shoes, leaving them behind as well.  
  
“He won’t hurt me,” she tells herself, but it feels like she’s fighting for her life anyway, adrenaline running hot through her veins as she holds completely still and listens. She can hear his spurs clicking in the distance; why hasn’t he taken them off, she thinks, as she begins to pick her way in the opposite direction.  
  
“Seriously,” McCree says, as if on cue, and she moves from cover to cover to stay out of his line of sight. “I’m now certain that ol’ Soldier is actually Jack.”  
  
“You are the one who threatened to _shoot_ me,” Hana shouts back, immediately moving because she’d just given her position away and she can hear McCree make a beeline towards her.  
  
“I did not,” he says indignantly.  
  
“You took your gun out of your holster and kept talking about interrogations!” The floor is smooth enough that she can slide on her socks once she builds up speed, and she uses that to whip around a corner. McCree isn’t close, but he’s near enough to make her antsy. “What was I supposed to think, hearing that from a former Blackwatch agent?”  
  
“Okay, admittedly, not my best plan,” McCree calls back, and she huffs as she continues onward. The walls thrown up as cover form a circle of sorts, interlocking and plentiful; she dodges towards the center, knowing McCree will be making his way towards the edge. It’s only a matter of time before he finds his revolver. “How was I supposed t’know that intimidation wouldn’t scare ya, it’d make ya _flip_?”  
  
“Have you _read_ my file?”  
  
“Yeah, but - ”  
  
“Did you read the part where some fuckboy tried to touch me at a publicity event?”  
  
“Wow, didn’t know you had it in ya to use such language - oh, shit. Was that the six foot four guy?”  
  
“Obviously!”  
  
“Ah.” Hana still remembers him - big, tall, muscular, getting in her space during a transition onstage, warning her that no one would come if she screamed. She of course ignored him, kneeing him in the crotch before making her escape, because that’s what she does when she’s threatened as Hana; she runs. As D.Va, she would have broken four of his fingers (and probably not have managed to get away, which is why D.Va isn't always her solution to things). “Okay, fine, I should’ve known better, fine. We’re gettin’ off-topic.”  
  
“No, we are not. I will not answer your questions if you are going to shoot me!”  
  
“Fer the last time, I wasn’t gonna _shoot_ ya. _You_ shot first.”  
  
“What did you think I was going to do, talk about something that isn’t even true? I am not about to get hurt for some baseless accusation!”  
  
“First of all, it ain’t baseless, and secondly, you really can cut the crap because I already _know_ you’re lyin’ - ”  
  
“ _What is going on here._ ”  
  
“ - ah, hell.”  
  
“Language.” A pause, and Hana squeaks in alarm as her cover recedes and it’s just the flat arena again. McCree is all the way across the room, and his gun is now visible in its forlorn spot on the now-empty floor, and he and Hana exchange looks that are both apologetic and hostile in the same breath. He makes his way towards it; Hana makes her way towards 76 standing near the side panels, vaulting over the divide and gratefully swooping under his arm, pressing close.  
  
“You have ten seconds, McCree,” 76 says, rifle braced in his other hand, and Hana is suddenly struck with the thought that maybe she really should not have shot McCree's revolver.  
  
“Okay, before you go making assumptions, it’s not completely my fault,” McCree says, holding his hands up in the air. His revolver is safely back in its holster, and Hana gives him a baleful glare. “Maybe it’s mostly my fault,” he amends, to which 76 tenses up, physically preparing for confrontation.  
  
“I shot him first,” Hana volunteers because, despite everything, she does feel a little bad. McCree gives her a surprised look that she ignores.  
  
There’s a pause. “I’m sure you had good reason,” 76 says.  
  
“Oh, sure, Hana gets off the hook, but _me_ \- look, I’ll just - ah, fuck it,” McCree says with a sigh when all 76 does is glare. “Soldier, you’re Jack Morrison, ain’tcha?”  
  
“The man’s dead and I’m not about to try and follow his act,” 76 says and Hana could weep, it sounds so convincing.  
  
“Seriously, what is it with people playin’ dumb today?” McCree says, addressing it to the ceiling. Athena, thankfully, doesn’t respond, and he looks back at them. “Look, guy, Winston already knows. He hasn’t told any of us yet, but not all of us are completely stupid.”  
  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  
  
“Winston - he freakin’ _smelled_ ya when you first came in, Soldier. Can’t hide from a gorilla’s nose. Somethin’ about superior olfactory bulbs or whatever. ‘Sides, once Angel runs the DNA tests to get you completely registered in the system, secret’s out; might as well get it over with, you know?”  
  
“This is what he was blabbering about while I was gone,” 76 says quietly, looking down at Hana. It doesn’t come out like a question.  
  
“Yep,” she says anyway, popping the ‘p’.  
  
He grunts. “Well, that’s perfect.” He raises his voice. “McCree, I’m not joking when I say I have no idea what you’re on about right now.”  
  
“Yeah?” McCree’s close enough to hop over the divide himself, though once he does, he walks past them to retrieve his hat. He looks much more like himself when he puts it back on. “Why not take off your visor, then?”  
  
“Only reason I can see,” 76 says.  
  
“Hana said otherwise.” Hana mutters an apology under her breath, to which 76 sighs inaudibly; she only knows because she’s close enough to him to feel it. “Look, Jack, I’m all about keepin’ secrets and what have you, but even Hana’s reaction here was enough to tip me off - ”  
  
“You threatened to _interrogate_ me - ”  
  
“He _what‽_ ”  
  
“Look, it’s not important - ”  
  
“Oh, no, I think it’s important,” 76 says, leaving Hana behind to stalk forward. McCree raises his hands in the air in an effort to placate him, though both he and Hana know it’s in vain. “Is that why you shot him, Hana?”  
  
“I panicked,” Hana says, a little embarrassed in retrospect. “Also, I shot his gun, not him.”  
  
“That’s not the point!” McCree says, now waving his arms around. “Would all y’all stop pretendin’ and actually confirm what we already know?”  
  
“There’s nothing to confirm, cowboy,” 76 growls, pulse rifle swinging off of his back so he can kind of, like, jab it in McCree’s direction. “Whose great idea was it to threaten Hana with a Blackwatch interrogation?”  
  
“Look, _pendejo_ , the fact you know what a Blackwatch interrogation entails is tellin' in and of itself, and y’all are not gettin’ anythin’ good out of this by shootin’ _me_ \- ”  
  
\- but then he's cut off by a furious “ _Was machst Du da für Scheiße‽_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE SHE COMES.
> 
>  **spanish**  
>  _pendejo_ \- asshole
> 
>  **german**  
>  _Was machst Du da für Scheiße_ \- What kind of shit are you doing
> 
> also angela is not mom. seriously. a lot of you have been asking BUT WHO'S/RE GONNA BE THE MOM/S over the last few updates and i'm just sitting here like. does hana... want a mom?? like she's grown up in a household with one parent for many years (at least in this fic and i'm ready for blizzard to flip that headcanon on its head), and it was with her father, right. it's going to be a long time before she trusts someone else like she trusts 76, too, and maybe it won't be a person who could conceivably be seen as a mother figure. right? you feel me? ... no? 
> 
> k fine point is there will not be a mom for a LONG time, and even that is an if, so yes, there you go, there's my two cents. 
> 
> also, if you speak german, help a hapless author out and correct my mistakes if i make them!! please ;-;
> 
> ALSO ALSO, DID YOU SEE THE NEW LEGENDARY EMOTES. gremlin hana now exists and this pleases me greatly. not to mention symmetra's snicker kiLLED ME GOODBYE FRIENDS #slayed
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- 76 would never actually hurt mccree. he'd threaten and wave his gun around and a whole bunch of stuff but he wouldn't inflict bodily harm unless mccree had actually hurt hana  
> \- if mccree _had_ hurt hana, 76 would have talked much, much less  
>  \- if _hana_ had hurt mccree, 76 would be yelling a lot, lot more  
>  \- mccree and hana are friends!! seriously. do not let tryst convince you otherwise.  
> \- did i already hc'd that everyone fears mercy? THAT'S STILL TRUE BRACE YOURSELVES


	43. the Reveal™

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mercy wields words like a weapon. 76 absconds with only his pride intact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not my strongest chapter i don't think ;-; AND I FORGOT A CHAPTER TITLE GDI
> 
> regardless, have a stupendous day today! c:

And there she is, Hana thinks, turning on her heel towards the door: the good doctor herself. The angel. The valkyrie. Dr. Ziegler, who looks like she’s going to murder someone and she is going to scream profanity the entire time she does it.  
  
“Guns down,” she barks, and 76 and also McCree, surprisingly - Hana hadn’t seen him draw, but that’s nothing new - drop their arms, rifle and revolver pointing towards the ground. “Of all the stupid - I leave you alone with Hana for _five minutes_ and you still manage to make this much of a mess, Jesse. What would Gabriel say?”  
  
“My bad, Angel,” McCree says, hand going up to the back of his neck. “Also, he’d probably say something like _pinche baboso_ \- ”  
  
“And _you_ , Jack, you - you’ve always been so stubborn but _this_ \- you threatened to _shoot_ him for, what, exactly?”  
  
“For the last time, I’m not Jack,” 76 growls, “And I’m going to kill him because he told Hana he was going to interrogate her.”  
  
Dr. Ziegler stares at 76 for a long moment before her eyes shift to McCree, whereupon she says in a complete deadpan, “Jesse. _Was zum Teufel_.”  
  
“I panicked,” McCree says which, yeah, sounds about right.  
  
“It is fine,” Hana chimes in. “I shot him first.”

“She shot Peacekeeper, actually.”  
  
Dr. Ziegler says something that’s probably rude in rapid-fire German, giving enough time for Hana to send McCree as apologetic a look as she can muster, one he returns it in kind; just like that, all is forgiven and they are united in their front against the wrath of the good doctor.  
  
“Okay,” Dr. Ziegler says at last. “Hana. That was extremely dangerous. McCree’s revolver is metal and the bullet would have ricochetted off and may have hit either one of you. Next time you feel threatened, maybe don't actually _hurt_ each other, I can't believe I have to tell you this. Please.” A conspiratorial pause. “Otherwise, shoot his hat instead.”  
  
“Hey!” McCree protests, which only goes to show how true Dr. Ziegler’s assertion is.  
  
“And, next,” Dr. Ziegler says, “Jack. Sorry - Seventy-six. Come over here.”  
  
76 doesn’t move. The second Dr. Ziegler takes a step forward Hana puts herself between him and the doctor, and then McCree’s laughing, vexed, and Dr. Ziegler just looks - so tired, really. Tired of people’s shit, Hana would guess, and the gamer watches as she puts her head in her hands.  
  
“Seventy-six, I just want you to know that you are not fooling anyone,” Dr. Ziegler says, voice muffled. She sounds simultaneously furious and exasperated, mirroring her expression as she looks up. “No one. My Caduceus staff immediately ID’d you as Jack Morrison back in Russia.”  
  
76 grunts. No arguing that, though he doesn’t confirm it, either.  
  
“Look,” Dr. Ziegler says, pleads, even, “Can you please just make this easier on all of us and admit that you somehow escaped death and then _didn’t tell us about it_.”  
  
Hana doesn’t move from where she’s standing, watching the doctor’s face closely. Beyond the fury glimmering in her irises and the exhaustion lining her eyes, there’s - there’s genuine hurt, there, and it strikes Hana how absurd this entire situation is. She’s known 76 to be stubborn for as long as she’s known him, but this seems almost… unfair? A quick glance at McCree and she can see the hope in his small smile and soft eyes, but unlike the doctor there is temperance there, too, as if he knows 76 is Jack but also _isn’t_.  
  
How long has this been building up? How many of McCree’s thoughtful stares were not of suspicion or curiosity but of certainty? Has Dr. Ziegler pretended that 76 was not Jack for the sake of her friend that she thought was dead, for the sake of respecting her friend’s wish not to reveal himself? More importantly, why is it now that the two of them thought it ideal to strike?  
  
But they hadn’t been planning on both her and 76’s noncooperation, Hana realizes. McCree had been hoping to confirm what he had thought in a neat, roundabout way, by merely scaring the answer out of her. Meanwhile, Dr. Ziegler had likely suspected a false positive from her staff, for that could be the only reason the heroic Jack Morrison would ever hide his identity from his friends, and had wanted to double check. Instead of getting answers, Hana had struck back, protecting 76’s secret with vehemence; instead, 76 had continued to deny everything despite science telling Dr. Ziegler otherwise. Because, honestly - if 76 doesn’t want them to know, shouldn’t they respect that and let him come to them when he felt it was time?  
  
Everything about this was poorly planned and a huge breach of privacy. Or, then again, maybe Hana’s mind is just throwing up random scenarios and she’s completely wrong. Either way, she knows what her next course of action is, and as she turns in place to face 76, she’s sure he does as well.  
  
It’s with slow motions that she lifts her hands to either side of 76’s head - plenty of time for him to bat her away. He doesn’t, of course, merely waits as she huffs out a breath of air before touching the mechanisms that would release the visor from his face, and when she pulls it away his blue eyes are narrowed and there’s a tight frown pulling at his lips. She grimaces in response, and then it’s just her and 76 standing there and - McCree’s eyes are blown wide, Dr. Ziegler’s hands rise to cover her mouth.  
  
“Here,” Hana says after a moment, and then she holds the visor up and 76 gingerly takes it from her, putting it back on. She lowers her voice so only he hears and says, “Are you all right?”  
  
“Not in the least,” 76 answers. It comes out as a low growl, his pulse rifle swinging onto his back. “I’m going.”  
  
That startles McCree out of whatever daze he was in, and he immediately begins to protest, “You can’t just - ”  
  
Dr. Ziegler begins, “You let us think you were - ”  
  
“Look, I’m pissed, you’re confused, let’s just table this whole discussion until later, okay,” 76 snaps, and Dr. Ziegler’s brow furrows with inward anger while McCree looks remotely taken aback. “Just… give me a few hours. Least you can do. Hana, would you - ”  
  
_Deal with this. Explain what’s going on. Keep them off my back. Buy me time._ “You got it,” Hana says, stepping aside and giving him a finger pistol. He huffs in amusement but otherwise says nothing else as he makes his way to the door, and McCree and Dr. Ziegler watch in bemused silence as the glass slides open and closed behind him.  
  
For a long few moments, no one says anything. Hana takes the time to jump back into the arena and grab her long-abandoned sneakers, put them on, and then walk back, stretching her arms above her head, handgun bouncing at her hip. Once she’s returned, McCree and Dr. Ziegler are still kind of, like - looking at each other in shock. One thing to know and another thing to _know_ , Hana supposes, and she fixes them both with a blank smile.  
  
“So,” she says; “What would you like to know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **spanish**  
>  _pinche baboso_ \- you fucking idiot
> 
>  **german**  
>  _Was zum Teufel_ \- what the devil (used in the same context as "what the fuck")
> 
> i just want all y’all to know that this was in the original manuscript before i was like ‘no’: “She grimaces in response as she pulls the visor away, and then it’s just her and 76 standing there and McCree and Dr. Ziegler staring.
> 
> Hana does the natural thing: she Will Smith poses at him.”
> 
> also, yes, i did see the bastion short!! precious bby. i love how they explore that omnics can have PTSD, too, with flashbacks and everything awful about it. really gives a glimpse on the complicated history between humans and omnics, you know? and why relations between them are so tense in overwatch canon.
> 
> commentary:
> 
> \- okay, so  
> \- kind of a gross thing to do is to out people when they're not ready  
> \- i'm sure we all know this  
> \- be good people and don't do that to others yes?? good
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- mercy is the type of person who likes mindless video games like candy crush because you don't have to think while playing them  
> \- mccree is a cat person  
> \- genji and tracer have epic pillow fights and you cannot convince me otherwise  
> \- winston has to be seated in a very specific way in order to get work done. any other position and he gets uncomfortable and has to shift every fifteen seconds  
> \- reinhardt is very particular about his cologne. he likes the stuff that smells like flowers and things  
> \- torby and lúcio are the dream team when it comes to repairing things: torby takes care of the hardware, lúcio takes care of the software  
> \- even better: symmetra can produce any missing pieces with hard-light, if given blueprints or pictures to reference. this only works for hardware stuff, though, and it takes a long time before torby lets her help out this way  
> \- 76 and hana have all soul-searching discussions in the kitchen. this is now a thing  
> \- zenyatta likes to pretend to be oblivious to idioms/expressions in other languages just so he can grossly misinterpret them and see how people react


	44. interrogation, angela ziegler style (which is to say, not at all like an interrogation)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana explains some things to Dr. Ziegler and McCree. It's a little tense before it isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you have a superb day today!

In the end, Hana surprises herself with how much information she’s able to relay. Of the two, Dr. Ziegler asks most of the questions - what Jack’s been doing, why Jack was doing that, where Jack’s been, so on and so forth - and Hana manages to answer most of them, just specific enough to satiate Dr. Ziegler’s curiosity but also vague enough to give 76 some privacy. This is a little difficult to do when McCree occasionally pipes up with clarifying questions, but Hana does her best, and she knows 76 will appreciate her doing this no matter how badly she fucks it up. It’s just the way they work.  
  
“How long have you known he was Jack?” Dr. Ziegler asks at some point.  
  
They’ve migrated to a table in the corner of the training range by this time, Hana sitting on the table itself with Dr. Ziegler and McCree across from her in varying stages of tenseness. McCree looks relaxed, thumbs hooked into his belt loops and an unlit cigar in his mouth, looking mostly contemplative and focused on some point behind her shoulder; Dr. Ziegler is pacing in small, tight circles, hands locked behind her back and her eyes angled towards the ground.  
  
“Ever since Winston brought up the holoprojection of Jack Morrison’s face,” Hana replies, swinging her legs. She’s bored and a little hungry; maybe dinner will be soon. She makes a mental note to carry around a phone or something so she can check the time in the future.  
  
“And you didn’t tell anyone,” McCree muses.  
  
Hana shrugs. “It was not my secret to share.”  
  
“True,” McCree concedes. He mutters, almost as an afterthought, “Explains why he didn’t eat with us.”  
  
“But why would he hide from us?” Dr. Ziegler ask, and she sounds lost - not angry, more confused, Hana would think. The woman still has that look of exasperation on her face from before, when she was pleading with 76 to stop pretending; Hana’s answering her questions, but not in the depth she would like. Which makes sense, considering Hana isn’t 76, but not that that appeases the doctor any. “We are - we _were_ \- his closest friends.”  
  
Hana could tell her why. She briefly considers doing it, as a matter of fact, but then she thinks of how 76 had answered her in a tone that echoed like a confession. It wouldn’t be right, she decides, and she says, “You will have to ask him.”  
  
“He didn’t tell you?” Hana shrugs again, says nothing. Dr. Zielger's expression has become increasingly pinched as the line of questioning continues. It would be amusing if the doctor wasn't so intimidating. “Or you will not tell us?”  
  
“Not my secret to share,” Hana says after a moment, because what else was she supposed to say?  
  
“Okay, Angel, you gotta admit, that’s cute.”  
  
“There is nothing remotely cute about this situation,” Dr. Ziegler says, steely.  
  
“Sure there is.” McCree gestures to Hana, who watches him carefully, unsure of his angle. He’s grinning now, though his eyes still have that low, sad look to them. “Hana’s been lookin’ after Jack, ain’t she? We ought t’trust her judgment. We asked and she answered what she could; now we just wait for Jack to quit hidin’ in his room.”  
  
Dr. Ziegler looks like she’s about to argue - shoulders thrown back, expression fierce, mouth half-open - but then she closes her eyes and breathes in, long and slow, and opens her eyes on the exhale. It’s like a storm has passed; the ethereal calm has returned, and her smile, thought small, is thoughtful.  
  
“There’s no other option, either way,” Dr. Ziegler says, and then she sighs and says, “Well. I don’t suppose I could somehow entice you not to talk about this to anyone, Hana.”  
  
“About Seventy-six?” Hana says, bemused. Certainly Dr. Ziegler knows that was a given? Furthermore, why would Dr. Ziegler find that important to hide, if she herself had been so intent on getting the information out in the first place?  
  
“No, about… my outburst. How you and Jesse got into a fight.” Dr. Ziegler sighs again and rubs at her temple with one hand. “The last thing we need is to have everyone know about internal conflicts.”  
  
“Y’mean that the last thing we need is the U.N. breathin’ down our necks even more,” McCree muses in agreement. “We gotta present a united front if we want any chance of stayin’ active.”  
  
“Right,” Hana says, because she gets it, and she really does.  
  
“So if you and Jesse are going to have problems - ” Dr. Ziegler begins.  
  
“I am not angry at McCree,” Hana says quickly with a shake of her head. “I feel bad, actually.”  
  
“What she said,” McCree says, jerking a thumb at her, and Hana feels her lips lift upwards in response. “Also, I think you should be a bit more concerned about your reputation, Angel. What would Rein say if he’d heard you screamin’ bloody murder at us?”  
  
“He would stay out of my way,” Dr. Ziegler says, voice flinty, but Hana can see the joke relaxes her, however slightly. “You’re right, of course. Hana, let’s keep this to ourselves.”  
  
“About that,” Hana says, jumping down from the table and landing lightly on her feet. She crosses her arms across her chest, eyes narrowed. “I hope you will keep his identity a secret until he is ready. You have already made enough of a mess.”  
  
McCree merely nods - Hana wouldn’t surprised if he’s already run through numerous scenarios and determined keeping quiet would be the most advantageous move in this situation - but Dr. Ziegler looks incredibly offended, for just the briefest instance. Then she looks neutral again, and then she looks a little sad as she murmurs, “I suppose you know best.”  
  
And that’s the rub, Hana thinks; that this young gamer from South Korea now knows Jack Morrison better than his long-time best friend does. “I am glad you think so,” Hana says. “If you will excuse me, I will attempt to remove him from his room in time for dinner. I will see you both then?”  
  
“’Course, darlin’,” McCree says with a smile. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Dr. Ziegler doesn't respond.  
  
Hana nods firmly, then patters over to the door. She only stays just long enough to give a wave to the two in the room before palming the door shut behind her, and then she takes a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds, and lets it go.  
  
 _Maybe I should bring him sliced apples,_ Hana thinks with a wry smile, and then she sets off at a brisk trot to 76’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as i finish this chapter i pass by a water tower that says ‘loves park’ in all caps. it’s a good time, i.e. i am on my way to college!! this won’t slow updates down, internet providing, but it does answer a burning question: as you’ve noticed, this update has gone up later than usual. me being on the road is why. c:
> 
> the last update was very well-received and it was awesome! i’m glad you all liked it and i hope you’re ready for a little old man angst next chapter ;-;
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- winston always has been one of the main faces of overwatch (since tracer is in blackwatch and is therefore obscure)  
> \- zenyatta gives killer massages  
> \- torby has several different attachments he can stick on the end of his mechanical arm. i feel like this should be true because otherwise he’s literally. a lego man? you know? if he didn’t. i mean even one of the big zombie monsters in resident evil 6 had interchangeable arms, so i bet torby could rig something up.  
> \- symmetra’s can make a hard-light blade directly onto her prosthetic arm for a melee weapon in a pinch (like omni-tool blades in mass effect 3)  
> \- tracer can go through twelve ears of corn in one sitting  
> \- reinhardt once tried to out-eat tracer and was out of commission for a week  
> \- hana learned how to drop into a splits after a fan asked her to at a major competition and she couldn’t. the next major competition she stared directly into a camera and dropped into a splits just to prove she could (and because she hates admitting defeat)  
> \- mercy and genji were legendary debaters in the original overwatch. no one could interrupt their arguments once they had started, even if you banged pots and pans together, brought them to separate rooms, and screamed in their faces. they would just keep going through comm or chat channels  
> \- nowadays they agree on more things than not  
> \- 76 has never been able to lie well to close friends; to officials, though, he can utter complete bullshit and make it sound legit  
> \- mccree knows how to jump-start a car but beyond that he’s hopeless  
> \- lúcio loves candies and often orders online to get stuff from all around the world


	45. glad to see you’re listening to me for once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana cheers her grumpy old dad up. There are no sliced apples.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm using my phone's hotspot to upload this ;-; which is why i didn't respond to everyone's comments yet!! i'm sorry. hopefully i can get around to it later today or early tomorrow or in a couple of days. i do see them though!! and i love you all for them!!
> 
> have a glorious day today!

76 is not actually in his room when Hana knocks on it and gets no answer; so Athena tells her, anyway, and Hana thanks the AI before treading towards the mess hall. If he’s not in his room, and he can’t be in a training range, then he’s probably somewhere around the barracks. If she waits long enough, he should come back, but who has time for that? Certainly not her. Dinner will probably be soon, or at least Genji should be in kitchen by now, and she’d prefer to catch 76 before rather than after. Thus, Hana moves towards the mess hall.  
  
He’s probably in the kitchen, given how a lot of conversations between the two of them happen in there. And if he isn’t, well - she can grab him some sliced apples in an epic turnabout. Or maybe she can throw together something, if Dr. Ziegler had actually read Hana’s requested grocery list and gotten the ingredients she wanted. Or maybe, Hana thinks, it won’t matter in the least, because she almost walks into him as he turns the corner from the mess hall with what appears to be a water bottle and two granola bars.  
  
She squints at what’s in his hands before looking up at him. He doesn’t move, but she gets the sense he’s inwardly cringing at the current state of affairs, especially when she says, “That is all you are eating for dinner?”  
  
“Yep,” he says, chuckling when she lets out an exaggerated sigh, and when he starts to walk, she turns around and falls into step beside him. She only has to wait for maybe three seconds before he says, “Sorry for throwing you at Angela and Jesse,” as if the two were wolves rather than people.  
  
“It was easy,” Hana says with a dismissive flap of her hand. He opens his room and she steps inside first, finding the place spartan and bare, clean to the point of loneliness. She wrinkles her nose; she’s going to have to find him some wall decorations, besides what was provided when they had first gotten here. Maybe a nice, colorful tapestry of some kind. (Maybe an American flag, she thinks, and proceeds to resist the urge to gag and laugh at the same time.) “Neither of them would hurt me and, even if they did press me for details, I had no obligation to respond.”  
  
“So they didn’t try to… follow me out?”  
  
“Oh.” Hana hadn’t realized that that is what he’d been concerned about. “No, they did not. They respect you that much, at least. They also agreed not to tell anyone what happened and what they know.”  
  
76 doesn’t say anything to that, just a soft, short sigh of relief before Hana hears the telltale hiss of his visor being released from its mechanism, and when she turns 76 is cracking open his water bottle and tilting his head back to chug it. Had they still been on their way to Gibraltar, he would probably dump the rest of his head, and she laughs when he almost goes for it before remembering he’s sitting on his bed, to which he gives her a wry smile. It’s a good look on him.  
  
“So,” she prompts.  
  
“So,” he echoes, and doesn’t continue.  
  
“So,” she says again, drawing the word out until he gives her a flat look, to which she grins victoriously and says, “Are you all right?”  
  
“Peachy,” he says in response, sipping at his water bottle. His smile remains, but she can tell his heart isn’t in it.  
  
“I have never understood that expression,” Hana says instead of pursuing the point. “Why is it not equivalent to say you are ‘fruity’?”  
  
“English sucks,” 76 offers.  
  
“True. Korean is much more sensical and logical.” She nods once in agreement with herself, and she grins again when she gets him to laugh because of it. Better. “How are you, really?”  
  
He sighs, which is an answer in and of itself, especially now that she can see the resigned look on his face instead of staring at the glowing red line of his visor. She doesn’t think about it when she drops down beside him and hugs him sideways, as best she can with her smaller frame and his broad shoulders, and he grunts a laugh which tells her he appreciates it anyway.  
  
“Wanna talk about it?” she asks, since he’s talked her through a bit her problems, or at least touched the surface of them, so it’s the least she can do.  
  
“Mm. Not much to talk about. You were there.”  
  
“We can talk about our _feelings_. It will be like a sleepover!” Not that she’s had many sleepovers, but it’s the principle of the thing. “You can be emotional instead of some grumpy old man yelling at kids who mess up your lawn.”  
  
“Hana, what the heck,” 76 says, and he’s laughing as she lets him go and jumps to her feet. This is good. This is familiar territory, if she can keep him laughing then he won’t feel as terrible.  
  
“We can paint your fingernails! With American flags, so it adds to your garish jacket.” She shudders.  
  
“I wear gloves,” he points out.  
  
“But you’ll know they’re there and you will feel awesome because of it.” She shudders again.  
  
“I really don’t think so,” 76 says, smiling still, and then, “Thanks, though,” and Hana knows it goes for the hug and for cheering him up and for offering to paint his nails. Such as it is, she thinks with a grin, and then she remembers the important bit of this conversation.  
  
“It is going to happen one day,” she says. “But, that notwithstanding: how do you want us to handle this?”  
  
76 grunts, smile dropping as he takes a smaller sip from the water bottle. He doesn’t speak right away, but when he does, his voice is contemplative. “Probably should talk to Winston first. Doubt he wants the U.N. to know about me just yet, or at all.”  
  
“The U.N. is meeting with Winston, Torbjorn, and Dr. Zielger in three days,” Hana says, thinking quickly. 76 looks remotely surprised that she remembered that detail from Symmetra’s introductory meeting, to which she smirks at him. “You should probably speak with him before that. If you are not going to dinner, I can bring it up with him, if you would like.”  
  
“I’m not, so that’d be good,” 76 agrees.  
  
“You sure you do not want to come? I think Genji is attempting a noodle stir-fry of some kind. He says it might be questionable due to his inability to eat, but he also assured me it would taste good a few seconds later, so I am optimistic.”  
  
“Ha! I’m sure. If Genji cooks anything like he did before, I’m not going to risk it.”  
  
Oof. That put a slight dampener on her hopes. She says dejectedly, “Maybe I will make my own dinner.”  
  
“Nah, I’m sure he’s gotten better. It’s been a number of years, after all.” At her dubious glance he gives her a thumbs up, which really doesn’t mean anything. “Anyway, about Winston - just make sure you keep the details vague enough in case anyone’s listening in.”  
  
“Obviously,” she scoffs, to which he laughs. “What else?”  
  
“Eventually I’ll need to talk to Angela,” 76 says, and Hana doesn’t miss how he’s begun to refer to her by first name instead of call-sign. His expression drops at the mention of it, in any case. “That’ll be rough. Been a while since… well. Been a while.”  
  
Hana graciously lets that pass without further scrutiny. “And McCree?”  
  
“Jesse will come to me,” 76 says with certainty; “He could never figure out when to leave well enough alone. Gabe always told him that that would get him killed one day.” Hana notes the nickname but doesn’t comment, and after a few more moments of silence 76 murmurs, “As for the rest of them…”  
  
“I would keep it from Satya and Lúcio for now,” Hana says, dropping onto the chair across the room. His desk is also empty save for the computer Winston gifted him; the computer is currently asleep, though when she accidentally knocks it with her elbow, she sees he has a chat client active but doesn't bother looking further. “Lúcio is a bit of a blabbermouth, and, as you said, we should operate with the assumption that Satya has a hidden agenda.”  
  
“Glad to see you’re listening to me for once.”  
  
“Hey, I knew about the U.N. meeting! Just because I look like I am not paying attention does not mean I am actually not paying attention.”  
  
“I know,” 76 says, and he sounds unbearably fond. Hana has to duck her head to hide a flush as 76 goes on, “We’ll talk more about this later. You should probably get to dinner, and I know you’re not going to give me away.”  
  
“You should tell me about your time in Overwatch afterwards,” Hana says, phrasing it like a demand more than a request. She’s been sitting on a lot of questions for a while; she figures she deserves at least that much, even as she relents and tacks on at the end, “Please.”  
  
“Of course,” he says, smiling again, and even though there’s a tired crinkle to his eye, he does look a lot more cheerful than when she’d first entered the room. “Now get out. I have to finish my boring dinner and mope.”  
  
“I will bring you something, and also I think it is more like sulking,” Hana says, and then she darts out of the room when 76 throws his now-empty water bottle at her. She manages to slam the door behind her before it hits her, laughing, and then she’s trotting towards the mess hall with a smile on her face. She knows he won't mope, or at least she hopes he won't, and that's enough for her to be content.  
  
Besides, dinner with Satya awaits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so there wasn't as much old man angst as i was expecting. it's probably a bad thing that i can't predict where my own story will go at any given time. (seriously. i have no idea what will happen in the next few chapters. i have no plan or plot skeleton at all.)
> 
> anyhoo, time for more symmetra!! i’m so excited you guys. i love symmetra so much. and then after that it’s more good times with hana and 76!! i’m so excited. college is so exciting. the nerves haven’t hit me yet so i can afford to be this excitable c:
> 
> and hey, fun fact, snails have teeth! that’s not at all relevant to this fic at all, but i thought you might find it interesting.
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- winston made a monkey pun once in his life and tracer has never let him forget it, ever. he’s haunted by his mistake every time she creeps up out of nowhere and whispers, “I’m going apeshit bananas over this new computer drive” and then blinks away before he can attempt to grab her and scream in her face  
> \- zenyatta once tried to drive an old-fashioned car - steering and pedals - by only manipulating his orbs in the air: one on the brake pedal, one on the accelerator, and two opposite each other on the steering wheel. genji supervised. zenyatta crashed the car into a wall and both he and genji agreed it was easier to drive by hacking a car’s computer and just directing it via electronic commands  
> \- mercy hoards swiss chocolate in her medbay, despite constantly telling people to cut sugar from their diets. she likes to eat it and also give bits of it to patients who need the distraction/could use some comfort  
> \- symmetra is ambidextrous  
> \- lúcio used to breed pokemon for perfect IVs and EVs and what have you  
> \- hana does not have her driver’s license, despite being able to drive a state-of-the-art mech  
> \- 76 cuts his own hair  
> \- mccree can barely shoot any other guns other than Peacekeeper - he learned how to shoot pistols first, but he can’t use deadeye unless he’s using his trusty ol’ revolver  
> \- torby loves legos. loves them. there’s something relaxing about building incredibly complicated things without them being completely destructive in nature  
> \- reinhardt is the kind of dude who’d take you to ihop at midnight, no questions asked


	46. age is just a number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana talks to some friends. Satya is uncomfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a sublime day today!

Hana walks into the mess hall to find only a few Overwatch members milling about - notably Zenyatta and Lúcio, conversing animatedly as sizzling and bangs occasionally echo from the kitchen - Genji's doing, Hana would suspect. (Hana hopes she doesn’t get enlisted in clean-up duty. She’s found she can usually escape it by leaving early, and 76 moping around in his room gives her ample excuse to actually do it today.) Further down, Tracer and Reinhardt are engaged in what appears to be an intense game of checkers. It’s unclear who’s winning - though, based on nearby Winston’s entirely flat expression, it’s apparent the match, and the excessive shouting, has been going on for a while.  
  
“D.Va!” Lúcio says, waving a frantic hand in the air, and Hana grins and goes over to where he is seated, remaining standing for the moment. “Did you know that Zenyatta is only twenty years old?”  
  
“Really? That’s a year older than me!” Hana exclaims, rounding on the omnic with wide eyes. Zenyatta’s lights flicker in a way that Hana remembers equates to amusement, and she's legitimately curious as she asks, “Is that young for an omnic?”  
  
“I suppose it depends,” Zenyatta answers, metallic but warm, somehow. He inclines his head towards the kitchen, where Genji is humming while he cooks, hopefully. “Genji is seventeen years older than me, and while it is arguable that he is not an omnic, it is nevertheless true that of the two of us, I am the teacher.”  
  
“That is true,” Hana agrees. “I guess age really is just a number for omnics, then.”  
  
“How does omnic romance work?” Lúcio asks. “I guess it doesn’t matter how old you are, so is it just - similar models? Or maybe not? What about interspecies romance?”  
  
Zenyatta’s in the middle of laughing and responding when Satya walks in the room, poised and elegant, stiff in a way that can only be from nerves. Hana gives a quick farewell before jogging her way over, feeling Lúcio's eyes on her back and doing her best to ignore the prickle in her skin; this was something she promised she would do, and she knows that it's for the best.

Satya is not dressed in her architech outfits this time, no cyan blue and gold trim or glowing headset; right now, it’s a pale blue blouse with dark dress pants and flats, hair swept into a neat bun on her head. Her makeup is impeccable and she gives Hana a tentative smile when she bounces over. “You look so pretty!” Hana chirps, and Satya’s smile grows, looking away and raising a hand to push nonexistent hair behind one ear. It's cute; Hana wonders if she's ever been complimented on appearance before, as she says, “You need to teach me how you do your eyeliner.”  
  
“It is not difficult,” Satya promises her before casting her gaze out. There are rows and rows of tables and Hana watches Satya skip over where Lúcio is seated, just a brief flick of her eyes. “We are allowed to sit anywhere?”  
  
“Yes,” Hana says with a grin. “If you are not comfortable sitting with anyone else, we can just sit together. They will understand.”  
  
“I… I would prefer that, yes.” She looks embarrassed now. “I am sorry. I - being crowded is overwhelming when I do not know those around me.”  
  
“No worries. Pick a spot!”  
  
Satya, predictably, makes a beeline for the table furthest away from Lúcio. Lúcio glares daggers at her the entire time, and then also glares at Hana until she shrugs and mouths _sorry_ , to which he narrows his eyes and looks away. Hana grimaces and tries not to let it bother her; she doesn’t think he’s mad at her, but then again, anything is possible. Hopefully Zenyatta would be able to talk some sense into him.  
  
“I do not see Commander 76 here,” Satya says after a moment, once they had settled in a table, Satya on one side with Hana directly across from her.  
  
Oh man, if 76 learns that even Satya has picked up the ‘commander’ thing, he would just about die. Hana resolves to tell him at the first possible opportunity. “He is in his room,” Hana says instead. “He is not comfortable with eating in front of people, usually.”  
  
“Ah. You two seem close.”  
  
“We have been watching each other’s backs for a while now,” Hana says with a nod and a smile. “We are not related, however.”  
  
Satya makes a noncommittal noise; Hana gets the sense, suddenly, that making conversation must be difficult for her, especially with someone who is an unknown variable in the world’s equation.  
  
“Here, how about we play a game?” Hana says, suddenly remembering how 76 had dealt with her inability to form words in the kitchen just days ago.  
  
“Like that?” Satya says, and she and Hana simultaneously turn to look at Tracer and Reinhardt screaming at each other as Reinhardt gets one of his chips to the opposite end of the board.  
  
“No, like - like twenty questions,” Hana says. She thinks that’s what the game is called, though by Satya’s expression, the architech doesn’t recognize the name, either. “You ask me a question, I answer, and then I ask you a question and you answer. Whatever you would like to ask, and you do not have to answer if you want to. That way we can learn more about each other without fumbling through awkward small talk.”  
  
“I suppose that would be acceptable,” Satya agrees, though she seems uneasy.  
  
“Great! I will go first, since you have already asked me a question already.” Satya nods and Hana says, “What do you like to do for fun?”  
  
She would ask about family - ask how Satya got her job at Vishkar in the first place. But personal history seems like a sore spot for a lot of people in Overwatch, and she’s not about to risk a social faux pas for the sake of her curiosity.  
  
“I enjoy my work, actually,” Satya says in the meantime. She hesitates before continuing, “I find it calming to work on schematics and designs. I have always been most comfortable with a white pencil in hand.”  
  
“That sounds really cool,” Hana says, and then winces inwardly because that sounded fake, but Satya doesn't seem to notice. “Could I see a few designs sometime?”  
  
In response, Satya reaches her hand over to her prosthetic and moves her fingers in a gentle, rhythmic pattern. Moments later, a projection of what appears to be a proton projector floats in serene blue above her prosthetic’s palm, and she smiles with a hint of smug pride as Hana coos and carefully tracks a finger around the smooth edges of the blueprint.  
  
“I have this memorized,” she tells Hana. “Only if I have a design imprinted in my memory can I manipulate light into being in its form.”  
  
“Wow,” Hana breathes. Suddenly, her driving an excessively complicated mech seems so easy in comparison.  
  
As if reading her mind, Satya says, “If I may ask a question, I am curious as to why you find it a sound battle strategy to have your mech self-destruct. Was that discovered by accident or perhaps something else?”  
  
Hana grins widely, remembering Winston deciding to test her and 76’s abilities in what appeared to be, in retrospect, a piss-poor imitation of hazing. “It is an amusing story.”

And as she launches into how she and 76 entered a training range to test their mettle, with Satya smiling and listening in thoughtful silence, only interjecting to ask for clarification, Hana knows this dinner will go just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for those who are thinking 76 got off too easy with angela and jesse: you're right. he did. old man angst isn't over quite yet, as you'll see next chapter, which also means _alas_ i won't be going into details with hana and satya eating dinner together plus genji's disastrous cooking skills - not yet, anyway. c:
> 
> also, can i just say that all y'all's comments give me life?? they are wonderful and awesome and i love reading and responding to your headcanons, thoughts, and ideas. don't stop being awesome!!
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- winston and mccree have weekly terrible romcom nights when they can, where they eat junk food, watch the worst romcoms they can find, and gossip about people at base  
> \- mercy, despite playing violin, hates listening to other people play violin. she finds that it sounds actually. super annoying? like it's high-pitched and always gets the melody and she finds it quite boring, but she herself enjoys playing viollin to relax and she's good at it so people like to listen  
> \- zenyatta gives hana killer massages during de/briefing meetings sometimes (courtesy [Fluid_favors](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluid_favors/pseuds/Fluid_favors))  
> \- genji was in a circus at some point during his wanderings before he met zenyatta. you'd think it was for his mad sword skills, but it was actually because he's an extremely talented acrobat  
> \- symmetra, once people figure out she can make literally anything out of hard-light provided she has an idea how to sketch it out in her mind, starts making things like flutes, cars, plates, etc. - things she never would have made on her own. she finds it strange and wrong but oddly refreshing to work on things not related to vishkar tech  
> \- tracer and reinhardt play a lot of board and card games together, though cards against humanity has been outlawed due to permanent mental scarring  
> \- torby can fall asleep anywhere at anytime. just tell him there's an hour to get wherever and, if he has nothing else to do, he'll drop into a dead sleep in a matter of minutes  
> \- lúcio and 76 bond mostly over, unsurprisingly, training. this is because 76 avoids getting involved in lúcio's music, despite lúcio's best efforts, and instead insists the boy learn how to shoot his gun properly. hana finds the whole thing hilarious


	47. in which we look through 76's eyes for a change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack wishes things could be less complicated. Alas, life has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a sensational day today!

**Monday.**

[AA]: you knew it was only a matter of time  
[JM]: That doesn’t make it any easier.  
[JM]: Angela’s scheduled a ‘check-up’ for tomorrow. I think she’s going to kill me.  
[AA]: i had half a mind to kill you when we ran into each other in egypt  
[JM]: Yeah, but at least I know you wouldn’t.  
[AA]: thems fighting words bucko  
[AA]: besides angelas the only one you really need to worry about  
[AA]: if i remember anything about jesse hes gonna try to chew you out and then burst into tears  
[AA]: hes a good kid  
[JM]: Lots of good kids in Overwatch.  
[AA]: yeah?? coming from golden boy blue-eyed blond optimistic compromiser sweet-talker diplomat commander morrison youd think youre a little biased  
[JM]: Just a little.  
[JM]: Also, that didn’t really make sense.  
[AA]: english isnt my first language asshat  
[JM]: Sorry.  
[JM]: But I am being serious. You’re going to like the newer members.  
[AA]: are you gonna wax poetic about hana again  
[AA]: listen i know youve pretty much adopted her but i do not need you fawning over her for like an hour more than once  
[JM]: Like you didn’t used to do the same with Jesse?  
[AA]: you wanna go  
[JM]: No, you’d win.  
[AA]: damn right i would  
[AA]: fucker  
[JM]: Such kindness.  
[JM]: But actually, I meant to ask: are you any closer yet?  
[JM]: Not to give you incentive, but Jesse is going to flip the fuck out when you show up.  
[AA]: maybe i should sleep dart him for old times sake  
[AA]: at least reinhardt would find it funny  
[JM]: So would Lena and Genji.  
[AA]: lena and genji are there?? damn im probably missing so much shit rn  
[AA]: itll take me at least a week to get there if i rush  
[JM]: Should be fine. Winston, Angela and Torbjörn will be at a U.N. meeting on Thursday, so they’ll be back by then, with any luck.  
[AA]: wow those official types work fast  
[AA]: then again you werent exactly subtle in rio beyond being illegal as all get out  
[JM]: That was Vishkar’s doing, not ours.  
[AA]: ah yes of course mea culpa  
[AA]: anyway dont you dare ruin the surprise  
[JM]: Don’t you think I should? You’re going to have it just as bad as me when they find out, and you don’t have a visor to hide behind.  
[AA]: yeah but im not a weak little tryhard like you i can take it  
[JM]: Charming.  
[AA]: i know  
[JM]: Let me know when you’re an hour out.  
[AA]: roger that strike commander  
[JM]: Shut the fuck up, Ana.  
[AA]: really feeling the love here jack

* * *

**Tuesday.**

Jack hesitates for a long time outside the medbay doors before he actually goes inside. Hana had offered to come with as moral support, but he had declined; this is something he has to do on his own, even if he would have appreciated her smart-aleck remarks and flippant smirks. She’s the only one in the base who isn’t afraid of Angela, and he hopes that Hana doesn’t do anything to change that, at least not in the near future.  
  
As it stands, Angela is waiting in civvies and a suspiciously blank face. “Inside,” she says shortly, gesturing to her examination room, and Jack braces himself mentally as he enters and she shuts the door behind her. It’s not a good sign that it locks behind her, too, and with an inward sigh he hefts himself onto her table, seated, as she takes the spot behind her desk.  
  
Neither of them say anything for a while, as Angela busies herself with something at her desk and Jack watches from behind his visor. Her expression is still carefully neutral, even as she stands up and walks over to him, heels clicking on the floor, and stops before him.  
  
“I need to enter you in the database,” she says. He can tell she’s trying to keep an handle on her anger, but he can hear the furious shaking starting to bleed into her voice, and her eyes are flashing and hard. “I will be drawing blood, taking a cheek swab, and I will need your fingerprints.”  
  
“And an updated picture, I bet,” Jack says before he can stop himself, and he definitely deserves the punch to the kidney even as he tilts over and groans. Angela’s quivering fist is just visible in his peripheral vision, and he watches as she forcibly opens it as he slowly sits up, wincing. “Okay, yeah, that was distasteful,” he says, and then automatically brings his hands up to cover his stomach when her hand closes again.  
  
“You are the worst,” Angela tells him, soft but iron. “Take off your goddamn visor already so I don’t have to talk to some masked vigilante.”  
  
He does without speaking, and when she sees his face her expression crumples like paper. She’s not crying, not yet, and she traces a finger along the scars along his face, careful and gentle, before she pulls away and crosses her arms tightly over her chest.

“I’m trying not to slap you,” she explains at his raised brow. Her voice is quivering and it’s like a dark shard of ice settles in his chest, dread coiling up his spine because he is the cause of her unshed tears; he’d hidden his identity for so many reasons, but none of them mattered when he was watching one of his closest friends struggle to keep her composure. “You are so stubborn,” she continues, one hand rising to swipe carefully under her eyes, poised even when falling apart. “It would not have killed you to let us know.”  
  
“It might have, and that wasn’t a risk I was willing to take,” Jack says. It’s not as if he hadn’t thought about telling his oldest friends about his survival, but when he had taken on his quest to find out who had been responsible for the inside attack on Overwatch, he had known it would be better to remain under the radar; less likely for his enemies to link him to who - and what - he had left behind. “It was safer this way.”  
  
“Considering what you’ve been up to, I can’t say you’re wrong,” Angela sniffed, and when she uncrosses her arms, her hands remain open. Jack breathes a silent sigh of relief as Angela reaches up to touch his face again, this time clinical and precise, blinking rapidly as she runs her fingertips over the scars. “What in the world were you hoping to find, wandering around the world like you were?”  
  
“The reason the Swiss base blew up.”  
  
Short, simple, sweet. It makes Angela stiffen for just a moment before she tilts his face to the side, observing any and all damage she could find. She would eventually have to examine the rest of his body, too, but for now she seemed too overwhelmed to manage much more than a cursory overview. Jack isn’t about to push his luck.  
  
“I went to your funeral, you know,” Angela says after a moment. “I visited your grave whenever my work brought me to the States.” Jack doesn’t say anything, keeping his eyes lowered, and after a few moments Angela sighs, moving his chin so she could see the other side of his face. “We can get rid of these scars, if you would like. I can see your eyes have sustained some damage as well.”  
  
“I’d rather leave them,” Jack says, “And the visor helps with the eyes.”  
  
“Stubborn,” Angela says, clicking her tongue. She wipes her eyes again, takes in a deep breath, and takes out what appears to be a small scanner from the pocket of her lab coat. “This isn’t over. I’m still angry.”  
  
“I know,” he says, obediently staring straight ahead as she shines the light in first his right eye, then his left. She’s no optometrist, but he trusts her to know what she’s doing as she checks to see what the scanner has reported. “You have every right to be.”  
  
“You put us all in danger with - this. If Talon had gotten a hold of you, all of us would have been compromised in some way. You know too much about us and we would have had no idea how or why Talon would know so much.”  
  
Jack is silent. She is correct. He… hadn’t considered that. He’d considered so many things, but even that hadn’t been enough.  
  
There’s a long pause where Angela pulls away and surveys him head to toe. Her expression is unreadable, until she declares, “You’re a jackass.”  
  
Jack processes this for half a second before asking, hesitantly, “Is that a pun?”  
  
“ _Nein_ \- yes,” she says with a sigh, cuffing him on the side of his head. She’s smiling, even though it’s wobbly. “Stubborn jackass. If I tell that to Lena, she’ll never let it go.”  
  
“No, she wouldn’t, so please don’t.”  
  
“I might need some incentive.”  
  
Jack raises an eyebrow as Angela retreats with her scanner, back to her desk. Probably to enter the information into Athena’s databanks, he would expect. “Angela Ziegler, resorting to blackmail. What would Liao say?”  
  
“Don’t tell me he’s still around too,” Angela answers, half-accusingly.  
  
“That’d be news to me.”  
  
She lets out a noncommittal hum, but thankfully lets it go. “I’m still telling Lena about the jackass thing, though.”  
  
“Angela,” Jack says with a groan, and when she laughs he knows they’re going to be okay, eventually.

* * *

**Wednesday.**

“Hana told me you’d be willing to talk today,” Winston says.  
  
It’s early in the morning, before breakfast; Jack had shoved a granola bar into his system before hitting the gym, putting his ass down on the elliptical and cranking up the level as high as it would go. He’d been at it for maybe a half hour before his ears had picked up on the gait that could only belong to Overwatch’s resident gorilla, and he’d paused his workout and reached for his water bottle in preparation.  
  
“Hana also tell you to find me while I was working out?” Jack asks, pausing before he puts the water bottle to his face; he hasn’t removed his visor yet, for one thing, and for another, who knew who else could be watching.  
  
“No,” Winston says, smiling slightly. “But I remember that our commander was always more agreeable when he was on an exercise endorphin high.”  
  
“Sounds like a nice guy,” Jack says with half a grin, turning his head to each of the three entrances of the gym. “Anyone else in here?”  
  
“Just me. Athena, would you mind sealing the doors?”  
  
“Of course,” the AI says, and with that Jack pops his visor off, tucks it under his arm, and chugs his bottle. “You should know that Agent Oxton is currently inquiring about your whereabouts.”  
  
“Tell her I will be in the mess shortly.”  
  
“As you say, Winston.”  
  
Jack finishes the water bottle off and sets it on the ground, where it joins another full bottle. If Winston has any thoughts on the setup, he doesn’t comment, so Jack takes that as his cue to open the proverbial floodgates. He does it by saying, “So.” He’s a master at this, clearly.  
  
“So,” Winston echoes, and it’s so much like his discussion with Hana that Jack can’t help but smile. It must put Winston at ease, because he smiles back and says, “I’ll admit, I’m surprised you haven’t told anyone else about you.”  
  
“Angela and Jesse strong-armed it out of me,” Jack says with a shrug. The thought of that still stings, especially when Hana had tried so hard to keep it quiet, had been so vehement about protecting his privacy; he’s angry at Angela, sure, and especially at Jesse for threatening Hana, but mostly he’s angry at himself for putting her and, as Angela had told him, everyone else in danger.  
  
“I heard. Jesse dragged me aside at dinner a few days ago and told me the whole thing, complaining the whole time. He’ll probably come yell at you when he works up the guts to do it.”  
  
“And then proceed to break down and cry?” Jack guesses. Ana is rarely wrong about Jesse, but he’s curious to see what Winston will think.  
  
“Oh, yes,” Winston agrees, smiling. (Somewhere, Jack thinks, Jesse is sneezing up a storm.) “Though I have to ask, why hide it? I’ve had a lot longer to come to terms with it, but I was angry and, frankly, saddened when I recognized you. You’re lucky no one brought it up until now.”  
  
“So I’m told,” Jack says, guilt tugging at his chest again, not enough for him to apologize. “As for why - it made things easier, considering what I was doing.”  
  
“Thought you were coming to break into here next, actually,” Winston says, laughing quietly. “When Jesse raised me on comm to tell me he and Lena were carting you here instead of dropping you off to U.S.A. authorities, I’m pretty sure I said some things that I now regret.”  
  
Jack studies Winston’s face; determines, “You don’t regret it.”  
  
“Not really,” Winston says, and Jack’s forgotten the easy camaraderie that comes with old friends. It feels like nothing’s changed, almost, even though Jack knows that’s just wishful thinking. “It’s not every day you get to scold both Jesse and Lena and have them be actually apologetic about it.”  
  
“Sight to see,” Jack says.  
  
“Oh, yes. Lena brought me artisanal peanut butter a few days after you and Hana had settled in. Her version of an apology, I guess.” Winston’s eyes glittered behind his glasses. “Not that it mattered. As soon as you entered the conference room, I knew, and I wasn’t about to send you away.”  
  
“So you decided to test us both.”  
  
“Mostly D.Va,” Winston admits. “I didn’t realize you’d taken her under your wing so, uh, adamantly.” Jack doesn’t say anything, looking decidedly away from the gorilla, as Winston laughs. “I remember you doing that to another agent - can’t remember xir name.”  
  
“It was a long time ago,” Jack says, carefully keeping his mind away from the subject.  
  
“It was,” Winston says. He looks sheepish. “Sorry.”  
  
“Not your fault. Not sure you need to apologize to me of all people anyway.”  
  
“Never hurts to be empathetic,” Winston says. The look he gives Jack is unreadable. “There’s nothing to be gained by treating others like they wouldn’t understand your motives.”  
  
For a long moment, Jack is speechless. It’s like an insane role reversal - in fact, it _is_ an insane role reversal, with Winston leading Overwatch while Jack is just a soldier, and now, instead of Jack guiding his agents and teaching them and helping them, Winston is the one reminding Jack of the most important lessons he had once taught back when he had been Strike Commander Morrison. Wow. It’s like he’s been slapped in the face while simultaneously being told he’s been fired from his job, and the feeling is entirely unwelcome.  
  
“Fuck,” Jack says, which is as eloquent as he can manage in present circumstances.  
  
“Language,” Winston says, eyes flashing with amusement, and Jack shakes his head, fighting the urge to grin and scowl at the same time. The gorilla had been resting on his haunches, but now he balances and puts his weight on his arms. “We’ll talk more later, Jack. Lena probably wants to go over what we’ll be talking about in the U.N. meeting tomorrow. See you at breakfast.”  
  
“Yeah,” Jack says, and when Winston exits the room, he gives up on the rest of his workout and goes to take a shower. He - needs to talk to Hana. He needs some normalcy after everything that’s happened in the first two hours he’s been awake.

* * *

**Thursday.**

It’s around five in the morning and Jack is the only person who comes to say farewell when Torbjörn, Winston and Angela set off for the U.N. meeting. He accepts a tight hug from Angela and a hearty pat on the back from Winston as Lena, who is flying them there, looks on, mystified, confused, burning with questions but holding them tight to her chest for now. Torbjörn's already in the plane, out like a light.  
  
“You’re in charge while I’m gone,” Winston says. “Don’t burn this place down.”  
  
“You know I could do so much worse than that,” Jack says, the first time he’s idly referenced Before with the chance that someone could overhear. It startles Winston into a surprised look, but Jack merely fixes him with a steady, glowing stare. He loves his visor sometimes. “Don’t bash any heads.”  
  
“I plan to,” Angela mutters, cracking her knuckles one by one. She looks like a warrior about to charge into battle, which is actually not a bad comparison, all things considered. “Verbally. And yours when I get back.”  
  
“Again?”  
  
“I am very angry, Jack,” she informs him. “You are too stubborn for your own good.”  
  
“Let’s go, loves!” Lena calls, evidently all of her patience used up in watching Angela and Winston confer with the quiet loner 76 in low voices. “We’ll be late otherwise!”  
  
“Coming!” Angela answers, and then she punches Jack’s arm, hard, before settling her hand on her shoulder. “Take care of everyone. For the love of god, don’t cook anything.”  
  
“I’ll make salt on salt,” Jack deadpans, and Angela’s laugh is small but at least it’s there. “Get us active, Angela, Winston.”  
  
“We’ll do better than that,” Winston says, and doesn’t elaborate when Jack tilts his head at him. “See you in a few days, Seventy-six.”  
  
He waves until the cargo doors are closed, and stays outside until the plane is just a distant memory in the sky. It’s cold this early, and the wind whips around him; it’s probably going to rain, and though he should go to the training range to do his morning workout, he mills about near the cliffs leading towards the ocean, hands folded behind his back like they’d taught him in basic. Staring out across the wide expanse of water, he realizes the view has hardly changed, even as the world whirls in motion around him.  
  
He turns to go to the training range when the first droplet of rain hits the ground.

* * *

**Friday.**

Hana’s shouting something when Jack gets back to his room; he can hear her through the walls, speaking rapid-fire Korean interspersed with English and laughter, the sound light and airy despite it contradicting everything he knows about her. She always streams late into the night even when he tells her not to because it’s not healthy and he would, against all odds, like to sleep - and while she always rolls her eyes and tells him to lighten up, she does turn down the volume and stops shouting a bit after midnight.  
  
Good kids, he thinks, even as he pounds on the wall a few times to get her to quieten down because it’s almost twenty-three hours. “You need earplugs?” Hana yells back a moment later, laughing hysterically when Jack responds with an exaggerated groan, but a few moments later she calls back, “Sorry, dad!” and he has to smile.  
  
“Just keep it down, Hana,” he responds today, to which she giggles and says something in Korean that sounds suspiciously like a joke at his expense, and he lets it go because he can’t stay mad at her, not really.  
  
He does end up using earplugs, though, because super-soldier hearing can be annoyingly acute, but the next morning Hana presents him with a pair of headphones decorated with American flags and racing stripes, along with “an iPod so you can put your old man music on it!”  
  
He takes them, bemused, and says, “Where did you get these?”  
  
“Did you not hear? Lúcio and I have just made a joint merchandise line! He rigged up these headphones for you to help you sleep. You can play any music you like and they are sound-canceling so you will not have to hear  - ”  
  
Hana squeaks in alarm when he hugs her in thanks, though she’s quick to respond, giggling as she hugs him back. It’s nice, Jack thinks, releasing her to pat her shoulder, to know there’s someone out there who cares.

* * *

**Saturday.**

The knock on his door is distinctly un-Hana in nature, which means - Jack types a quick goodbye to Ana and closes the chat client before he goes to answer it, and sure enough, it’s one Jesse McCree, serape-less, wearing a blue plaid collared shirt with jeans and his BAMF belt along with mismatched socks, one pink with a bunny on the front and one green with a frog along each toe. The cowboy hat, ever-present, is perched on his head, and the look he fixes Jack is hard and dark and angry.  
  
“Jesse,” Jack says, figuring there’s no need to bullshit anything, and he steps to the left to let the kid inside. He stalks in without a word as Jack closes the door behind him, and by the time Jesse’s turned around Jack’s already reached up and removed the visor from its mechanism.  
  
“Jesus Christ,” Jesse says when he sees Jack’s marred face. “Looks worse when I see it again.”  
  
“I’m old,” Jack offers. He can’t find it in him to be offended, not when Jesse seems like a puffed-up cat looking for a fight.  
  
“Old men don’t usually have scars ‘cross their whole face, Commander.”  
  
“We’re all soldiers now, Jesse,” Jack says, and then he gestures to the chair by the desk. “You wanna sit and scream or stand and scream?”  
  
“Aw, shit, Commander, you’re bein’ considerate. Must’ve realized the errors of your ways in the last couple of days, huh?”  
  
“Winston talked to me,” Jack says, and he lets a rare smile flit across his face as he says, “I got scolded.”  
  
“You deserved it,” Jesse says instead of being amused, and Jack is suddenly struck with a juxtaposition of Jesse McCree from his memory and this new Jesse McCree, several years older, much more experienced and, apparently, much more jaded. Their lives have continued without him; with Hana, a new fresh face to Overwatch, he continues to forget that most members from Before have changed their hands and kept their new cards close to their chests. “We were a mess when you jumped the fence and left Hana to fend for herself.”  
  
“Hana is capable of doing so,” Jack says, because he knows Hana has no hard feelings about the situation. “As for Angela, she’s already made it pretty clear how she - ”  
  
“You don’t understand, Commander,” Jesse says, and Jack falls silent because Jesse is staring right at him, expression stiff, arms crossed over his chest, “What it’s like when someone you looked up to, someone who didn’t deserve to die, someone whose funeral you went to seemingly comes back to life.” His voice grows glacial. “How do we know we can trust you? How do we know you’re actually Jack? Why did you wait this long to come back, and why didn’t you tell us you were you?”  
  
Jack… hadn’t thought about that, but Jesse’s right, isn’t he? Angela knows he’s Jack Morrison because she’s seen her staff ID him; Winston knows because of his superior olfactory bulbs or whatever. Jesse has nothing to go on but what he’s observed of Jack and what Angela and Winston have told him and, clearly, something in Jack’s behavior has told Jesse to remain suspicious. Thus: a kind of stalemate where Jack had no idea how to prove his identity and Jesse probably wouldn’t believe him if he did.  
  
Except.  
  
“Ask me a question about before, whatever you want,” Jack says, “And I’ll prove to you that I’m Jack. Something only I could know.”  
  
“Who mentored me?” Jesse says without hesitation.  
  
“Gabe, then Ana,” Jack replies with similar speed.  
  
“Even that’s no guarantee,” Jesse says, amber eyes narrowed. He’s grown up so much, and Jack, even though his mind is scrambling, can’t help the small burst of pride in his chest. Ana will be so, so proud once she hears. “Who knows what Talon’s capable of these days, you know?”  
  
He’s likely referring to Gérard and Amélie, Jack thinks, how Gabe had argued that Amélie couldn’t have just defected randomly after Talon had kidnapped her, that something must have happened to make her kill Gérard, that they should investigate - but the U.N. had said no. Jesse’s covering all of his bases, and Jack wonders what exactly the kid’s been through since they had last spoken to each other.  
  
“You’re right,” Jack says in the meantime. “But I’ve never been captured by Talon. Hard to be, when everyone thinks you’re dead.”  
  
“How can we know that for sure?”  
  
“You can’t,” Jack says. “I can’t convince you just by talking. I’m confident you’ll find a way.”  
  
Jesse fixes him with a confused look at that. Jack watches him patiently, seated on his bed, elbows on his knees and hunched over his folded hands.  
  
“Who gave me this belt?” Jesse asks after a moment, and - and that’s a memory Talon wouldn’t have bothered with, too obscure and so scarcely mentioned it couldn't amount to any worth. It’s something Jack only knows the answer to because the one responsible once got incredibly drunk and blurted it out in the middle of a stupor.  
  
“Ana,” Jack says, softly. “As a joke, and she’d probably laugh her ass off if she saw you wearing it right now.”  
  
“Jesus,” Jesse says, and then a small smile breaks across his face, both relieved and happy and incredibly expressive. Kid’s always been an open book, usually, and the fact he’s so unreadable now is a sign of how much times have changed. Jack keeps forgetting, really, wonders how Jesse would look if he was as clean-shaven as he was back in the day. “I can’t be intimidatin’ for very long, as it turns out.”  
  
“You were doing a damn good job, Jesse,” Jack says. “Gabe always thought so.”  
  
“Did he? Never did hear him praise any of his agents.” Jesse hums noncommittally, rubbing the base of his palm against one eye, then the other, to preemptively stop any tears from spilling. “S’pose you would know.”  
  
“Well, that, and Hana said that you told her interrogation was your strong suit.”  
  
“You don’t got to be intimidatin’ all the time for that,” Jesse says. “The right balance of effable and fuckin’ terrifyin’ and you’ll get what you need.”  
  
“You would know.”  
  
“Damn right,” and there’s Ana’s influence on the kid, right up until he sniffs and shakes his head, still grinning. “I’m gonna get out before I start cryin’ all my feelings out. Thanks, Jack.”  
  
“For what?”  
  
“Dunno,” Jesse says, going towards the door. He hesitates before he exits. “For comin’ back, I guess.”  
  
Jack almost doesn’t ask the question, but in the end he opens his mouth and says, “You’re not angry?”  
  
Jesse pauses for an even longer moment before he shrugs, a ripple of muscle. He’s grown up a lot from his scrawny seventeen year-old self, broad-shouldered and muscular, mind still fast as a whip. “Eh, not really. Not anymore. Angel’s got enough for both of us.”  
  
Those are Jesse’s parting words as the door slides shut behind him, and Jack is suddenly struck with how lucky he is that, somehow, Overwatch is full of good kids.

* * *

**Sunday.**

[AA]: yo jackie boy you there  
[JM]: Yes, actually.  
[AA]: wow what  
[AA]: youre on your computer at a decent hour?? will wonders never cease  
[JM]: It's barely after eight in the morning. I wake up at five, remember?  
[AA]: dude whatever why are you even online  
[JM]: You said it would take you at least a week if you rushed, which meant you’d be here in six days.  
[JM]: We’re both old soldiers, but neither of us are forgetful.  
[AA]: you know i was going to be impressed until you said that old soldiers part  
[AA]: you havent changed a bit strike commander morrison  
[JM]: Neither have you, Second-in-Command Amari, wouldn’t you know it.  
[AA]: thats not even my real title you dingdong  
[JM]: So creative! Frankly, I’m appalled you haven’t come up with something similarly clever before.  
[AA]: oh my goooooddd shut upppppp  
[AA]: anyway this makes things easier  
[AA]: im currently aiming a sleep dart at jesse’s head from where hes sitting in the mess hall  
[JM]: Ana, what the fuck.  
[AA]: i need you to film this for me  
[JM]: I really don’t think it’s a good idea to just pop in unannounced.  
[JM]: Especially after attacking an agent. That’s going to put everyone on edge. They’ll be suspicious, if nothing else.  
[JM]: Pretending you’re dead has a lot of ramifications, let’s just put it that way.  
[AA]: psh im not the one who was wandering around doing vigilante things  
[JM]: Um, yes, you were?  
[AA]: yeah but i didnt get caught theres a big difference  
[AA]: cmon jack this is a matter of international security get in the damn mess hall  
[JM]: Honestly, _you_ are more of a threat to international security at this point.  
[JM]: Give me half a minute. I’ll wave at the window when I’ve started recording.  
[AA]: knew i could count on you jack  
[AA]: this is going to be the best thing you’ve ever seen i promise  
[JM]: This is a terrible idea. If you have any sense, you won't actually shoot when I wave.  
[JM]: Don't say I didn't warn you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i guess... more old man angst? mostly a lot of jack getting yelled at, i suppose. and not even everyone knows about him being jack yet! hmmm. and for people who were asking whether ana and jack were in communication with each other, based on ana's comic: THERE'S YOUR ANSWER c:
> 
> also also, guess who used to be a filthy homestuck ;-;
> 
> ALSO LOOK AT THIS FANART [hydrachea](http://hydracheart.tumblr.com/) MADE IT'S GORGEOUS AND BEAUTIFUL GO LOOK AT IT [HERE](http://hydracheart.tumblr.com/post/149325397737)  
> 
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- winston is the type of person who sees something super pretty and has to drag everyone over to look and admire it. landscape? "LOOK HOW BEAUTIFUL THE MOUNTAIN IS" object? "LOOK HOW WELL-DESIGNED THIS IS" person? "you look good today! don't you think they look good today?"  
> \- mercy, zenyatta, and lúcio, on missions, will sometimes run into each other, hear genji screaming across the landscape that he needs healing, and play a really fast game of rock-paper-scissors to see who has to go save genji's ass  
> \- symmetra and mccree got along almost instantly due to their shared distaste for torby. then they actually became friends because torby berated mccree for hanging out with symmetra and mccree was like "excellent, another way to bother torb" and pretty much became friends with symmetra through sheer force of will (and because he told her torby disapproved and she was immediately In on the plan)  
> \- hana is that nosy friend you can't stay mad at for getting involved in your business because she goes out of her way to make your life better - like knowing when your birthday is and getting you your favorite cake even though you haven't told her anything about it.  
> \- tracer, once learning 76 is actually jack, dutifully calls him 'commander' at every opportunity. so does winston, and angela, and reinhardt, and pretty much all of the original overwatch members. (also symmetra and zenyatta.) he hates it with a passion  
> \- ana has not mellowed out in her old age


	48. i told you this wasn’t a good idea, but you didn’t listen, did you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana flips out. It’s mostly a sniper’s fault. [tw: panic attacks]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **trigger warning for panic attacks**. skip this chapter and go straight to the end notes if that's not something you want to read!
> 
> otherwise, have a fantastic day today!

Hana waves when 76 walks into the mess hall, and he walks a bit before he actually notices her and waves back. McCree and Lúcio are sitting across from her, McCree in the middle of explaining how it is entirely true that cats were far superior to dogs, and then suddenly she realizes 76 is remaining oddly still and that’s when a window shatters, Lúcio yelps, and McCree stops mid-sentence and slumps forward into his bowl of cereal. It’s all they’ve been able to make without an oven, stove, and microwave, courtesy of Genji, but that’s not important now as Hana drops to the floor, gun in hand, while Lúcio yells “ _Sniper, outside!_ ”  
  
The response is instantaneous, since no one walks around unarmed: Zenyatta throws an orb of harmony at McCree before floating into the safety of the kitchen; Dr. Ziegler rushes towards the cowboy with Reinhardt shielding her; Genji and Tracer are gone in blurs of color, shouting at each other and at Athena as the AI checks in with her drones and updates them on the sniper’s location; Winston retreats to a corner shielded from the windows and pulling out the computer he carries with him everywhere. Hana and Lúcio remain hidden under their table until Reinhardt’s barrier shields them from incoming shots, and then Lúcio pumps up the volume on his healing beat and Hana puts herself at Reinhardt’s back, ready to cover the two healers if necessary.  
  
“Well, I don’t know, Ana,” she hears 76 say, “I told you this wasn’t a good idea, but you didn’t listen, did you?” and he’s standing _right there in the open he’s going to get shot and killed if he doesn’t move what is he doing_ -  
  
“Seventy-six!” she yells, frantic, terror locking her fingers around her handgun, and he _doesn’t move_. “ _Seventy-six!_ ”  
  
“I will be your shield, Seventy-six!” Reinhardt shouts, picking up on Hana's distress. “You will be killed if you stay out any longer!”  
  
“D.Va!” Lúcio shouts, and that’s when Hana notices she’s shaking so badly she’s actually dropped her gun, breaking one of the first rules she ever learned in the military, but her breaths are coming out in short gasps and all she can see is 76 just _standing there_ and he’s going to get killed and she can’t do anything about it but - “D.Va, hey, girl, hey, I need you to breathe, okay?” Lúcio’s arm is cinched tight around her shoulders; a moment too late Hana realizes that he’s the only thing keeping her upright as her vision swims and darkens in the corners, and then she’s sitting down, her face cold and pale, no doubt, as she tries to focus on anything except the pitter-patter of her heart. But then Lúcio is turning her so she can’t see 76 anymore, that is  _not_ okay, and he’s saying, “Everything’s fine, D.Va, no one’s hurt, Jesse’s just unconscious, it was only a sleep dart - ”

 _Reinhardt said he would be killed if he stayed out there any longer -_  
  
“ _Dad!_ ” she screams, and that’s when 76's head jerks up in alarm, immediately seeking her out, and suddenly the world around her snaps into focus, slow and surreal.  
  
Everything seems to happen at once - a figure slipping through the now-broken window, sniper rifle on their back, walking with a grace that belied the gray hair peeking through the hood of her cloak. Lúcio shouting a warning, raising the volume on his speed boost. Reinhardt roaring and bracing both himself and his shield in the ground. Garbled comm chatter as Genji and Tracer race around the perimeter, checking for any other intruders even as their target enters the building proper. It’s absolute chaos and all Hana can do is clutch at her chest, trying to suck air into her lungs because suddenly it's so hard to do so.  
  
“ _Move,_ ” someone says, and then Lúcio’s shoved aside and her hands scrabble and find purchase on the stupid jacket she always teases 76 about and - and then the soft warmth from 76’s biotic field infuses her body and it’s like a kick in the ribs, painful but she can _breathe,_ shaky but sure. Lúcio is still speaking, softly, calmly, and it's a while before people can figure out that the sniper isn't attacking them and is instead standing there, arms raised in a surrender gesture, though everyone's guns remain pointed in the sniper's direction.  
  
“Sorry,” Hana wheezes as soon as she can get enough air to talk, unable to look up at him because - this is _pathetic_ , that’s why. Just when she thinks she can’t get even worse, she goes and has a panic attack in front of _everyone_ and it feels like this isn't real, her head light and floaty and her bangs are stuck to her skin when she reaches a quivering hand up to wipe at her forehead -  
  
“You have nothing to apologize for, Hana.” She hadn’t even noticed she was crying until 76’s gloved hands wipe delicately at her face, too, and she clings to him even as he twists his spine to glare at the intruder. “Ana, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to kill you for this.”  
  
“Language,” the sniper says mockingly, and when the hood goes down, there are a number of gasps around the room. Still, the old woman has the grace to look guilty, staring down at the shivering mess Hana is sure she looks like. “You were right. This was a terrible idea.”  
  
“You’re in rare form today.” 76 gets up and he’s actually carrying her, curling her in so her head is pressed against his chest. “Have fun introducing yourself to everyone. I’ll be in Hana’s room if anyone needs me.”  
  
“Make sure she drinks water,” Lúcio advises. “Come get me if there’re any problems, and - oh, uh, no offense, Dr. Ziegler. I have a lot of experience with this kind of thing.”  
  
“Good idea,” Dr. Ziegler says, and though Hana can’t see her face, her voice sounds strangled. “Jack, care to explain some things?”  
  
“ _Jack_?” Reinhardt echoes, his voice incredulous.  
  
“ _This is Symmetra, from the workshop,_ ” Satya says through the intercom, as if there isn't enough confusion already. “ _If it isn’t too much trouble, mister Lindholm and I would like to ask what is going on._ ”

“I’ll explain later,” 76 says to Reinhardt, whose face has gone ashen. “Promise. Hana, you good with moving?”  
  
She can barely move her head in a nod, either way; she feels drained, exhausted, and thankfully 76 merely grunts in acknowledgement and then she can feel him walking away from the noise and the next thing she knows, she’s lying in her bed and 76 is sitting on the edge of it, visor in one hand, the other brushing her hair away from her face.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Hana mumbles after a few moments, shutting her eyes again. She thinks she should be embarrassed - she had been earlier - but now she just wants to lie here for a while. Not sleep, just rest, and she almost jumps out of her skin when 76 presses a water bottle into her hand.  
  
“No need, Hana,” 76 says, and she kind of rolls over and curls up around him, almost like a cat, as he runs his fingers through her hair. She ends up staring at the water bottle in her hands. “It - I should have warned you. I didn’t realize you were prone to panic attacks.”

“This is what happens when - ” and Hana stops, struggles with herself a bit, then decides 76 has seen so many sides of her he might as well see another - “When I do not allow myself to let D.Va through. When I... do not channel her, I guess.”

“... You _are_ D.Va, though.”

“I am Hana. In my MEKA, I am D.Va.” Her voice, thankfully, is matter-of-fact. “There has always been a difference.”

76 thinks on this for some time. Hana opens the water bottle and sits up slightly so she can drink it, and 76 keeps a hand pressed to her upper back, careful and grounding.

“That explains a lot, actually,” he says at last.  
  
Hana lets out a noncommittal hum before abruptly changing the subject. “So, who _was_ that?”  
  
76 lets out a long-suffering sigh and doesn't answer right away - when he does, his voice is quiet, layers and layers deep with feelings and emotions she can't begin to parse. “Ana Amari.” At Hana’s lack of reaction, he pauses again, and then explains, “One of the original founders of Overwatch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you skipped reading this because panic attacks are triggering, here are the essentials: hana called 76 'dad'; ana broke through a window after shooting jesse mccree with a sleep dart; jack left ana to fend for herself after revealing to the entire overwatch crew that no, she isn't dead; everyone who didn't know 76 was jack now knows he is jack; and hana told jack about her d.va persona/front/what have you. also, panic attacks are pretty terrible and can happen at any time, even when you're relaxed or even dozing. worse, once you get a panic attack, there's a chance they'll happen again and again without warning and seemingly without trigger. they're awful and weird and you should do some research if you're curious.
> 
> also, everyone was like ANA'S BACK IT'S PARTY TIME in the comments last chapter and here i'm like 'there are so many better ways to make an entrance and _this_ is the one she chooses?' oops!
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- winston can count without actively keeping track of the numbers. like he could be typing on his computer and focused entirely on what he’s doing, and tracer could be tapping on the lid of his peanut butter, and when she asks him how many times she’d tapped he’d be able to answer accurately  
> \- mercy and torbjörn, especially after ana’s return, argue a lot about using caduceus tech in guns. though ana adores her sniper rifle’s ability to heal and harm at the same time, mercy canonically hates the idea of it, and torbjörn can almost never win these debates because, as referenced some chapters ago, mercy is a legendary debater  
> \- zenyatta and lúcio have philosophical debates even zenyatta crushes lúcio every time. he’s just too good, y’all. hana likes to listen in on these because the subject matter get increasingly nonsensical over time (“so what’s your opinion on rubber ducks?” “i think they represent the futility of life - that after death you will always be reduced to singular purpose by those who seek to exploit you and your fame” “ok wtf that was unexpectedly deep zen”)  
> \- reinhardt and symmetra have a weird relationship in that reinhardt is quite platonically fond of symmetra because she’s talented and strong and intelligent and that’s something to be admired. symmetra, meanwhile, is like ‘the giant german is hugging me and i do not know how to feel about this but it’s probably a good thing so i’ll just. let him lift me off the ground. okay.’  
> \- 76 and ana were very close friends Before. nowadays, they’re still good friends, but a lot of closeness has faded a lot over the years and both of them prioritize others now instead of each other. they both know this, and it makes them both miss Before a little bit  
> \- mccree, genji, and tracer go out for drinks every now and then, even though genji can’t actually drink, and it’s the highlight of their weeks without a doubt


	49. it is good to finally meet you; jack oft spoke highly of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana meets Ana - properly, this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a splendid day today!

By the time Hana feels steady enough to go back to the mess hall, taking tiny sips of her water bottle, the situation has mostly calmed down - ‘mostly’ being the operative word, considering Ana Amari had basically come back from the dead. For some of the members, this was also true of Jack Morrison, and they have the fortune of walking in when Dr. Ziegler is yelling incoherent German in Ana’s face with Reinhardt’s intermittent interjections of “be polite, Angela,” going completely ignored.  
  
“Jack!” Tracer cries as soon as he enters, and 76 grunts when she blinks over and tackles him in a hug. Genji is more prudent behind her, delicately picking his way over with Zenyatta just behind him. Words tumble out of her mouth in a rush, almost like a waterfall. “You should’ve told us you were alive! I’m so mad but I’m also super happy, and it’s just not fair that I didn’t get to learn about this earlier when everyone else did! You know I went to your funeral, right? And Reinhardt had such a beautiful speech, and Angie was crying, and - ”  
  
“Commander Morrison,” Genji says with a shallow bow, interrupting Tracer’s babbling. She lets him, too, muffling a sob as the cyborg wraps an arm around Tracer’s shoulders, and 76 is entirely unreadable with his visor but Hana knows he’s not all too thrilled with these reactions; she’ll have to talk about this with him a bit more in-depth later on. “Somehow, I am not surprised you managed to escape death. It is good to see you again.”  
  
“If I may,” Zenyatta says before Tracer can interject again, “Are there others who are alive, despite certainty that they have since passed?”  
  
“Ana’s the only one I know of,” 76 says, which means - Hana flashes back to the chat client she’d seen on his computer and that explains a little, at least. What about Gabriel Reyes, though - what about Reaper? “I’m still not your commander, Genji, and we’ll talk later, Lena.”  
  
It’s a virtue of being Jack Morrison, Hana thinks, that Tracer doesn’t protest the point; just the way he says things makes them final, in a way. “As you say, Commander,” Genji says in the meantime, stepping aside to let them pass. Zenyatta is absently toying with his orb of harmony, lightly floating it from hand to hand, and Hana gives a small smile when he gently spins it over to her so it hovers near her shoulder. 76 merely forges ahead and it’s with a small wavering of hesitation that she follows after him, warmth from the orb infusing her from within.  
  
“Jack!” Reinhardt roars as they approach, and - he does _not_ sound happy, and a quick glance at his expression shows a mask of furious anger. That’s when Hana checks out of the conversation because of a hand tugging on her elbow; she turns to see that it’s Lúcio, and she allows herself to be pulled to the side as he sits her down at a table some distance away. Near where Ana is standing, attempting to talk Dr. Ziegler down, another shouting match ensues - this time Reinhardt railing against Jack, who takes it in stoic silence.  
  
“You don’t strike me as the kind of person to freak out,” Lúcio says, bringing her attention back to him. He puts his sonic amplifier aside in favor of reaching a hand towards her face, pausing until she nods her permission. His hands are warm and calloused as he turns her head from left to right, has her follow his index finger with her eyes, checks her temperature and pulse. “Guess the stress gets to all of us at some point.”  
  
“I do not know why it happened,” Hana says, eyes focused somewhere beyond his shoulder, hands clenched tight around the bench on which she sits. “I - usually I do not panic in situations such as that.”  
  
“Yeah, well, you thought that Amari woman was going to kill your dad,” Lúcio says, flapping a dismissive hand when Hana mumbles _76 isn’t my dad_. “I think it’s fair, _cara_.”  
  
“It would have been more productive to act.”  
  
“And do what? If you’d gone out into the open, maybe you’d’ve been shot instead. Wasn’t much any of us could do, if you think about it.” Hana winces and Lúcio shrugs, not about to apologize for the truth, though he softens at her expression and points out, “If there had been a Talon sniper, Seventy-six would’ve been the first person to get behind cover. You know that.”  
  
“I know,” she says, softly.  
  
Lúcio moves his hands away to put them on her shoulders instead. “Listen. D.Va - Hana.” Hana tentatively looks up, eyes flickering to and from his. “It’s not your fault,” he says, giving her a gentle shake. “Panic attacks happen to the best of us. You couldn’t have known that it would happen, and you couldn’t have stopped it.”  
  
Hana thinks about correcting him - there’s a reason D.Va has such an integral part of her life, after all - but the thought of doing makes her feel faintly uneasy. She definitely knows Lúcio is a friend, something like an elder brother really, but she couldn’t form the words even if she wanted to.  
  
“I know,” she says instead, inadequate and pathetic, and Lúcio sighs but lets it go. He pulls back and offers her his headphones, and when she slips them on he’s playing something quiet and melodic, smooth and lilting. Like most of his music, it manages to settle her nerves, slightly, and in the end he sits on the floor and resumes eating the toast he had abandoned as Hana leans back against the table, eyes half-lidded as she tries to focus on the music and nothing else.  
  
She only startles out of her almost-doze when there’s a flash of blue in her peripheral vision; she looks up and sees Ana Amari herself staring down at her, expression unreadable, hands on her hips. A quick glance shows that 76 is still occupied with Reinhardt while Dr. Ziegler looks on, looking far more perplexed than angry, and so she sighs, takes off the headphones, and returns them to Lúcio as she meets Ana’s eyes. Eye.  
  
“You are Hana Song, yes?” Ana says, and sweeps on before Hana can reply. “It is good to finally meet you. Jack oft spoke highly of you.”  
  
Hana continues to stare. She feels numb and doesn’t want to put in the effort of conversing right now, especially not with the person who triggered her panic attack in the first place. After a moment, she manages a bleak, “ _Annyeong haseyo_.”  
  
“I am sorry our first introductions were not under the best of circumstances,” Ana says, plowing on despite Hana’s obvious distaste for the entire conversation. “If you’ll let me make it up to you, I would be grateful.”  
  
“ _Ne_ ,” Hana says, and Ana nods once, with a sense of finality, before turning to Lúcio and speaking to him instead. Hana watches them for a few moments before glancing back to where 76 is standing and, seeing him still occupied with Reinhardt, casts her gaze out further until she sees Genji, Zenyatta, and Tracer crouching over a seated McCree; she gets to her feet and trots over to join them, wanting to stay as far away from Ana as possible.  
  
“Ah, Hana,” Genji says on her approach. He sounds like he’s smiling. “You’ve come at just the right time. Jesse has just woken up.”  
  
“Fuckin’ hell,” McCree hisses, “I ain’t some show to watch, Genji.” His head is tilted far over his eyes. “I fell in a bowl of goddamn fruit loops, give me a break.”  
  
“How are you feeling, Hana?” Zenyatta asks, apparently disinterested in McCree’s wellbeing, and that’s when Hana notices his little orb of harmony is still following her. Combined with Lúcio’s music, she’s actually - she’s actually feeling pretty okay, all things considered.  
  
“Physically, I feel fine,” Hana says, and she knows that’s enough when Zenyatta nods. He leaves his orb floating at her shoulder as Tracer, giggling weakly despite everything that's happened, helps a grumbling McCree to his feet. “I would worry more about McCree at this point.”  
  
“Her sleep toxin’s definitely gotten more potent,” McCree grumbles. “Usually only knocks me out for a few seconds, not minutes.” This earns him a lot of stares, and he just kind of deadpans back at them. “Dunno how the everlovin' fuck she’s alive, but it’ll a cold day in hell when I don’t recognize Amari’s sleep dart on the spot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **portuguese**  
>  _cara_ \- dude
> 
>  **korean**  
>  _annyeong haseyo_ \- hello (casual with just a bit of formal)  
>  _ne_ \- yes (somewhat casual)
> 
> this is the longest fic i've ever written, i think. i'd have to check some stats back on some older sites, but 70.000+ words is definitely more than i usually do ('usually,' i say, like i write 20.000+ words oneshots. which i do ;-;). and there's still eight more agents who need to join up!! dang, son, that means eight more 'operation' sections c: i'm gonna have to figure out how to pare that down a little bit.
> 
> anyhoo! mccree recognizes ana's serum on the spot, jack is getting yelled at by reinhardt, hana is checking out of ninety-nine percent of all conversations, lúcio's being a darn sweetheart.
> 
> oh!! and next chapter is chapter fifty!! i'm gonna do something a little fun for it c: ~~when~~ if i get to chapter one hundred, i'll do it again, too!
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- ana listens to edm or something like that when she's out sniping people (à la garrus vakarian)  
> \- winston once tried to drive a golf cart. it went about as well as you'd expect.  
> \- mercy, when she runs out of pens (because she only uses a pen, a headcanon hailing from the teens chapters) (i think?? who knows really), will run up to the first person she sees and furiously demand a pen. after a while overwatch/blackwatch agents start carrying emergency pens for this sole purpose  
> \- zenyatta will happily explain how to link spirituality with science and logic, given that people find it hard to believe an omnic with an operating system that uses binary could ever be spiritual  
> \- genji can shoot a bow and arrow very well, but he hasn't touched them once ever since he 'died'  
> \- symmetra's gunmanship extends to machine guns. her aim is atrocious because it's very difficult for her to focus in the heat of battle. thus: the proton projector, which is short-range but at least she doesn't have to aim it  
> \- hana can text at the speed of light. typing is a bit slower, though, since the keyboards at gibraltar are not korean ones  
> \- tracer hides her anger and not-happy feelings behind smiles and laughter. it takes a skilled person to look through her front and see the emotions roiling underneath  
> \- mccree shuts down when there's too much emotional stimulus to the point where he just kind of snaps and growls at people until they leave him alone. usually leaving him alone is the way to go; he just needs some time to process on his own  
> \- reinhardt is the type of guy to start something, realize he doesn't have the right tools, and finish the job anyway (ex: starts making pancakes, realizes there's no clean saucepan, uses a pot instead)  
> \- torby can crack eggs without tapping them on anything (and without getting stuff on his hands)  
> \- lúcio is the guy who insists you compost things, recycle things properly, and reuse as much as you can (WHICH I CONDONE. DO THIS PLEASE)  
> \- 76 once said that you could write poetry about anything. ana, true to form, told him to write a poem about dicks. the poem has been lost to the ages and many overwatch agents think it's just a myth. only jack, ana and gabe will ever know the truth.


	50. INTERLUDE: The Great Salt Debacle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an origin story. happy chapter fifty!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took liberal inspiration from ArcaneAdagio's [wonderful chatroom fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7324573/chapters/16637323). (read it. reeeeeeeaaaaad it.)
> 
> that being said, have splendiferous day today! (you can tell i'm running out of synonyms for 'good'.)

** some years ago **

[AA]: look im just saying its a great idea  
[GR]: no.  
[AA]: omgggg youre such a fuckin loser  
[AA]: itll be funny gabi cmon  
[GR]: i’m not helping you.  
[AA]: what happened to the old gabriel reyes? the one who would have jumped on an opportunity like this in the time it took jack to say ‘oh fiddlesticks’?  
[GR]: he died when he was put in charge of a bunch of jackasses.  
[AA]: is that any way to refer to your blackwatch agents?  
[GR]: i really don’t care.  
[GR]: i’m still not helping you.  
[AA]: really?? fine then  
[AA]: guess ill just ask dear sweet jesse  
[AA]: im sorry i meant jackass mccree  
[GR]: why would you do that. you know how unreliable he is.  
[GR]: he can’t keep his goddamn mouth shut.  
[AA]: dont even pretend you dont love jesse mccree  
[AA]: although i suppose you wont have that problem huh? ;)  
[GR]: it won’t even matter in the end.  
[GR]: do you want the whole base to know about this shit?  
[GR]: jack is going to tell everyone.  
[GR]: no one will shut about it once they hear about it.  
[GR]: i’m not going to run a goddamn pr operation on both jack’s and my own damn team.  
[AA]: B)  
[GR]: fuck you, ana. _fine_.  
[AA]: take me out for dinner first  
[GR]: shut. up.  
[GR]: if i get in trouble for this i’m going to get you fired.  
[AA]: gabi gabi gabi  
[AA]: you know you love me  
[GR]: go to hell.  
[AA]: ill meet you there  
[GR]: why do i even bother.

* * *

[JM]: ...  
[JM]: Is there a reason for the solid block of salt on my pillow?  
[AA]: SALT IS NOT A SPICE  
[GR]: it really isn’t.  
[JM]: Ah. I forgot how passive-aggressive Gabe is.  
[GR]: it wasn’t my idea.  
[AA]: yes it was  
[GR]: ana. i hate you so much right now.  
[JM]: I’m telling Liao, Reinhardt, and Torbjörn about this.  
[AA]: omg what is this the elementary school playground?? jack u tattletale  
[GR]: i fucking told you this would happen.  
[AA]: oopsie doopsies :)  
[GR]: jack can i kill her.  
[JM]: Only if no one else beats you to it.  
[AA]: IVE BEEN BETRAYED  
[AA]: jack gabi i thought u were better than this  
[JM]: Oopsie doopsies.  
[GR]: what he said.

* * *

[TL]: where did you even get a salt plate?  
[GR]: ask ana.  
[AA]: ask gabe  
[AA]: dammit  
[Winston]: ... I'm going to leave this conversation now.  
[RW]: A solid cube of salt!  
[Liao]: i’ll admit i’m impressed.  
[RW]: Are those not called salt licks?  
[RW]: It reminds me of that comic written by Gary Larson, I believe. There were deer involved. And salt licks, too!  
[TL]: great, rein. seriously, where did you get it?  
[AA]: i didn't put it there!  
[JM]: She stole it.  
[AA]: jack i would never :(  
[AA]: i wasnt the one who got the salt cube seriously  
[TL]: you definitely stole it.  
[RW]: She definitely stole it.  
[GR]: she’s guilty.  
[AA]: wow ganging up on me fine i get it  
[AA]: its because im a girl isnt it  
[Liao]: yes, ana, because we all know you could kick the ass of anyone in this chat.  
[JM]: Unfortunately.  
[TL]: where did you even get [a plate this big](http://ausbbq.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/block3.jpg)?  
[RW]: It appears to be big enough to cook things on it!  
[JM]: So we can test to see if salt is a spice then, right?  
[GR]: fuck, rein, you just had to say that, didn’t you.  
[RW]: Can you blame me? I am genuinely curious!  
[AA]: ewww whatever you cook on that is gonna get disgustingly salty  
[Liao]: too much of something isn’t a good thing.  
[JM]: Salt is a spice. It’s good for you.  
[TL]: no.  
[Liao]: no.  
[AA]: no  
[GR]: no.  
[JM]: You are all heathens and I’m embarrassed to be your commander. Except Reinhardt.  
[RW]: B)  
[GR]: shut up jack.  
[AA]: wheres angela when you need her

* * *

[AA]: you fuckin cheat throwing me under the bus like that  
[GR]: oopsie doopsies.  
[AA]: did you get that shipped overnight  
[GR]: himalayan salt cubes.  
[GR]: with any luck, jack won’t notice the paperwork.  
[AA]: damn  
[GR]: yep.  
[AA]: no wonder youre leader of blackwatch  
[GR]: fuck off ana.

* * *

[AZ]: Yes, I would definitely say that high of a salt content would be more detrimental to your health than not.  
[AZ]: Why do you ask?  
[GR]: need to prove a point.  
[AA]: well get back to you  
[AZ]: Okay... please be careful, whatever it is you’re doing.

* * *

[JM]: Angela, I can’t believe you’d abandon me in my time of need.  
[AZ]: Jack, salt is not a spice.

* * *

[AA]: all right folks weve got to amass our army  
[AA]: salt is NOT a spice type ‘aye’ if you agree  
[TL]: aye.  
[Liao]: aye.  
[GR]: aye.  
[JeM]: nay  
[Liao]: o.O  
[GR]: jesse, you’re fired.  
[JeM]: sorry boss  
[AA]: kiddo  
[AA]: you cant see me right now but ive got my sniper rifle and im coming to convert you  
[JeM]: fUCK  
[Liao]: ha! even ana’s threats one-up yours, gabe.  
[GR]: fuck _off_ liao.

* * *

[JM]: All right, soldiers. Are you ready to do battle?  
[LO]: you betcha!  
[GS]: i don't want to be here  
[LO]: dont be such a downer genj! this will be great!  
[GS]: そうかな  
[JeM]: i am riskin life and limb for this morrison  
[RW]: Don’t worry, my friends. I will be your shield!  
[JeM]: can you protect me from ana  
[RW]: Er.  
[LO]: lol what  
[JM]: It was nice knowing you, Jesse.  
[RW]: I will write a great eulogy for your funeral!  
[JeM]: y’all’re gonna make me cry  
[RW]: I most certainly will! Even though you will be dead.  
[JeM]: no i meant the tears of pain as ana shoots me but i guess that too  
[GS]: wwwwwwww  
[LO]: relax loves! itll be fine  
[JeM]: you dont even have an opinion on this whole debate lena  
[LO]: yeah but id always side with jack when it comes to these things  
[LO]: those other blokes dont stand a chance against him!  
[JM]: Thanks... I think.  
[LO]: trust me reyes is gonna put his gun up and then be like nope  
[JM]: There. There aren’t going to be any guns, Lena.  
[JM]: We’re having a cooking competition.  
[LO]: oh  
[GS]: じゃあね  
[LO]: in that case cheers! ill see you when youre all carcasses from eating your own dish  
[JeM]: GENJI LENA NO COME BACK  
[RW]: We are screwed!  
[JM]: Yeah, I think we are.

* * *

[Winston]: And this is happening right now?  
[LO]: yep! everyones crowded in the kitchen though so i cant see whats happening  
[GS]: it's very noisy  
[Winston]: Strange. I've never once seen Commander Morrison cook anything.  
[GS]: wwwww  
[LO]: i have!  
[Winston]: Really? What was it?  
[LO]: beats me it was round and black and charred  
[Winston]: Oh dear.  
[GS]: dr. ziegler will have her work cut out for her  
[Winston]: I'm glad I checked out of the conversation when I did.

* * *

[AA]: i  
[AA]: i cant believe jack made scrambled eggs and they actually tasted okay  
[AA]: and all they had was salt on them  
[GR]: i’m going to go lie down for a while.  
[Liao]: feeling sick?  
[GR]: no.  
[GR]: i need to have an existential crisis.  
[GR]: they should not have tasted that good.  
[Liao]: idk. they were just eggs.  
[TL]: they tasted great even though they had been made on a salt plate and had nothing else on them but salt.  
[TL]: i am very confused.  
[AA]: gabi can we have existential crises together  
[GR]: yeah.  
[GR]: door’s open.  
[Liao]: i really don’t get what’s so crazy about it??  
[TL]: those eggs were just as good as the omelettes we made with actual spices.  
[TL]: jack will never let us live this down.  
[Liao]: yeah, but so what. it’s jack. you can’t be mad at him.  
[GR]: clearly you haven’t tried hard enough.  
[Liao]: go back to your existential crisis gabe.  
[GR]: yeah ok.  
[TL]: well at least we don’t have to make lunch now.  
[Liao]: small mercies.

* * *

[JeM]: i cant believe we won  
[JM]: I don’t think we ‘won’, per se.  
[JM]: Mostly I think we surprised them.  
[RW]: Those eggs were delicious!  
[RW]: Where did you learn how to make them like that?  
[JM]: Trick is not to use boxed eggs. Fresh ones.  
[JM]: Water makes them fluffier. Milk or cream makes them creamier.  
[JM]: Use lots of oil.  
[JM]: Usually I’d put pepper on them, too, but I had a point to prove.  
[GS]: it looked disgusting  
[LO]: seconded!  
[JeM]: texture was great  
[JeM]: suppose that was the water  
[JM]: Yep.  
[RW]: I have a newfound respect for your cooking skills, Jack!  
[JM]: I can’t cook anything else decently, actually, so your faith is a bit misplaced.

* * *

[AZ]: Ana, Gabriel, I just wanted to check in to see if everything is okay.  
[AA]: GET OUT WHILE YOU STILL CAN ANGIE  
[AA]: SAVE YOURSELF  
[GR]: would it be ironic if i choked to death on jack's eggs?  
[GR]: like poetic justice or something.  
[GR]: do you think i would matter if it wasn't even jack's eggs i choked to death on?  
[GR]: ... can you end sentences with prepositions? i don't remember. does it matter that i don't remember?  
[AZ]: Mein Gott.  
[AZ]: This is the reason I can never leave anyone unattended.

* * *

**present **

[AA]: hey jack  
[JM]: What.  
[AA]: i found the salt plate  
[AA]: you still remember how to make those eggs  
[JM]: ... I do.  
[AA]: meet you in the kitchen in ten  
[JM]: ...  
[JM]: Don't forget the extra salt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **japanese** : (correct me if you see errors please!!)  
> そうかな - are you sure?  
> wwwwww- (laughter)  
> じゃあね - see you
> 
> this took liberal inspiration from ArcaneAdagio's [wonderful chatroom fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7324573/chapters/16637323). (read it. reeeeeeeaaaaad it.) happy chapter fifty to us all!
> 
> also, congratulations, some people [wrote dick poems](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/tagged/legendary-mythical-dick-poems). i'm simultaneously flattered and floored because _why_ would you write one but also. good job?? i'm glad i got your creative mind going?? even though you're writing poetry about male genitalia???
> 
> anyhoo: ta-da! formatting this is so much easier than formatting hana and lúcio's texting thing, wouldn't you know it. mostly because i didn't have to use the 'big' or 'small' commands and 'p align' commands as much, but hey, as liao said: small mercies. c: the only thing that makes me a bit hesitant about this chapter is that we have literally nothing on liao, so i had to make up a personality and hope for the best. i also gave them cyan blue because i feel like the liao i ended up writing is a cyan blue kind of person. but who can know for sure!
> 
> oh, and are all y'all keeping up with the sombra arg? it's so cool!! i am so pumped for another villain too c:
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- mccree really looked up to ana as a mentor. even though gabriel was probably his more helpful teacher, i.e. he taught mccree how to do blackwatch stuff, ana always took care of him in her own extremely roundabout way and mccree always remembered that about her  
> \- wondering where mercy became the jaded, angry medic? it started waaaay back Before c:  
> \- genji is kind of a jerk at this point in time, which can be seen in his curt and occasionally only in japanese responses. he's really. not a happy camper  
> \- tracer sides with gabriel on everything unless there's a firefight involved. then she sides with jack, because gabriel and jack are both hesitant to actually attack each other but, surprisingly, it's gabriel who's never once shot a bullet in jack's direction, even during training  
> \- the reason gabriel did that was to reduce suspicion. no one knows who the inside person was in the attack on the swiss base, so it must've worked  
> \- reinhardt likes the color bubble gum pink and you cannot convince me otherwise  
> \- torby was probably the most reasonable person involved in these group chats, which is saying something  
> \- (are ana and gabriel together? are jack and gabriel together? are jack and ana together? who can say for sure c:)


	51. maybe this is why winston brought in fresh blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and back to your regularly-scheduled angst, ft. a meeting in the conference room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a great day today!

“All right, everyone, settle down,” Winston calls from the front of the room, and Hana sits with her legs and arms crossed, leaning back far in her chair, as the gorilla waits until a relative silence falls. “Are we all ready to begin?”  
  
“Yes,” Reinhardt says, and it’s a bit of a shock to hear his normally-jovial voice so steely and cold. “I am ready for an explanation.”  
  
Winston nods once, glasses flashing in the light, and looks toward 76 and Ana. They are sitting near the front, where Tracer and Dr. Ziegler would normally sit, and Hana watches as they both get to their feet while Winston steps off to the side. Ana is expressionless, matching 76’s inscrutable visor, and once they are at the head of the table they both stand with their feet shoulder-length apart, hands clasped behind them. The symmetry is both eerie and familiar, and Hana looks away, attempting a smile and likely failing when Lúcio puts a hand on her shoulder.  
  
For a long moment, it’s dead silent in the room. The newer members of Overwatch - Symmetra, Zenyatta, Lúcio, herself - are marginally less affected by the recent turn of events, but Hana has no doubt that every one of them recognizes Jack Morrison’s name. The members of Overwatch prior to its original disbandment, however, are various shades of disgruntled to furious to devastated. Tracer has been clinging to either Genji or McCree since the beginning of the debacle, while McCree looks almost annoyed and Genji is, of course, unreadable. Dr. Ziegler’s eyes are glassy and she almost seems - inattentive, perhaps, like she’s seen a ghost. (Which she had.)  
  
It’s Torbjörn, actually, that has Hana most intrigued. Unlike Reinhardt, he seems almost calm, eyebrows steepled gently downwards, fingers clasped in front of him, as 76 begins to speak.  
  
“So, before anything else,” 76 says, and knowing 76, he’s going to completely butcher the delivery of whatever he’s going to say, “Gabriel is also alive.”  
  
Hana winces - yep, she definitely had called that - and the room explodes into chatter, silencing immediately when 76 raises a single hand and oh yeah, he’s a commander, isn’t he? A commander and the ghost of legend, too; even though people are angry at him, they can’t forget his accomplishments, it seems. Hana keeps her gaze trained on the table.  
  
“You told us you didn’t know of anyone else,” Genji says, polite and somehow also cold as ice.  
  
“Didn’t want to cause unnecessary panic,” 76 says, cutting over the quiet murmurs that spring up following the cyborg’s words. “It was already chaotic enough. Point is this - since you know about me now, you might as well know that Reaper is Gabriel Reyes.”  
  
The room is so suddenly silent Hana immediately understands the meaning behind the English expression _you could’ve heard a pin drop_. The only one with no stunned reaction is, of course, Hana - along with Ana, who merely purses her lips, and, surprisingly, Dr. Ziegler, who looks down at the table where her hands are tightly clasped, her eyes closing.  
  
“I don’t know what’s happened to him, and I don’t know how he’s survived,” 76 goes on. “What I do know is that he’s been hunting down every original Overwatch agent still alive - and as Winston probably already knows, there’s not a lot of us left.”  
  
Hana hadn’t known that particular detail - but suddenly, Jack keeping his identity under wraps makes a whole lot more sense, and she can see it dawning on others’ faces, too. Winston lets out an uneasy sigh at the end of 76's sentences, adjusting his glasses, but doesn’t say anything. Essentially confirming 76’s words, Hana thinks with a grimace, and explaining why she had been so readily accepted into Overwatch’s ranks.  
  
“Question,” Tracer says. She doesn’t wait for 76 to give her the go-ahead. “Does he also seem to be targeting Blackwatch?”  
  
“Yes,” 76 says, after a slight hesitation, “But other Blackwatch agents might’ve joined up with Talon instead. Seems he’s recruiting them.”  
  
“Bullocks,” Tracer says in a hiss. “No wonder I couldn’t reach any of ‘em.”  
  
McCree grunts. “Poetic justice. Reyes was always goin’ on about that.”  
  
“How is he alive?” Reinhardt asks - aghast, shocked, trembling in anger or maybe something else. This isn't the explanation he wanted, but in light of recent developments, this must be more concerning, Hana notes. “The one we saw in Russia could not have been human.”  
  
“Temporary immunity and teleportation,” Winston rattles off, seemingly on autopilot. His eyes are wide and his mouth pulled into a tight frown. “Did Talon do that to him?”  
  
“I don’t know,” 76 says. Dr. Ziegler stiffens briefly; Hana would bet Genji and McCree notice, but besides that, no one sees.  
  
“What an ass,” Ana grumbles, flipping 76 off when he drones _language_. “Did all of those years working together mean nothing?”  
  
McCree clears his throat, loudly, at that. Ana rounds on him with a glare that could kill, but he doesn’t so much as blink, instead crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head slightly to the left.  
  
“Seems like he might have a reason to hate Overwatch, if ye ask me,” the cowboy says. “Never did get any recognition for the crap he did, you know? Was always ‘Commander Morrison this’ an’ ‘Commander Morrison that’. Never any credit to us for doin’ the dirty work.” Tracer is nodding agreement here, though she doesn’t look pleased about it. “I mean, what he’s doing now is still a shitshow, but you gotta admit that there’s methods to his madness.”  
  
“That is years in the past.” It’s Torbjörn who points this out, surprisingly, and now he merely looks perplexed. “Surely he can’t still hold a grudge.”  
  
McCree shrugs, languid, in a way that screams _I know better than you do, but have it your way_. Hana privately wonders if that’s true and looks at 76, trying to guess what could be going through his head. His fingers are twitching slightly and his head is tilted slightly forward - tics she’s come to understand as displeased, perhaps a little anxious, and while part of her clamors to go up and support him somehow, the rest of her is too numb and exhausted to even consider moving an inch.  
  
“I mean,” Tracer says after a moment, quiet. “If my body were like that too, I’d be angry. You know?”  
  
“Gabi never did forget about every little thing that bothered him,” Ana says, almost wistful, and 76 nods his head beside her. Reinhardt closes his eyes and lets out a heaving sigh, just one grand gust of air. “Something that big - I could see how it could drive him over the edge, though… it still seems rather excessive, would you not say?”  
  
“I gave you my two cents. Doesn’t matter in the end,” McCree says, meeting his mentor’s eyes with an unreadable expression. Tracer sets her jaw when Ana look at her, eyes narrowed in a silent challenge that Ana does not take on. “Reaper’s still Reaper.”  
  
“And our friends are still dead,” Genji adds, undeterred when a collective wince goes around the room. “What is important now is to figure out how to stop him before - well. Before Talon finds us, I suppose. Does he know you are Jack, Commander?”  
  
“No way we wouldn’t recognize each other,” 76 says. “Fights the same as he always did. Knew from the very first time we crossed paths. He also knows I’m with Overwatch because of our excursion in Russia.”  
  
“ _Djävla skit_ ,” Torbjörn mutters, which is as close as he’ll get to an apology, Hana suspects.  
  
“So basically, we’re fighting against some dude who knows all of your weaknesses and who is also a ghost?” Lúcio says. There’s no response from anyone beyond grim looks, and Hana startles when, instead of a reasonable reaction like anger or fear, he starts laughing instead. “ _Céus_! I didn’t realize there’d be this much action when I joined up, but hey, I’m ready for whatever. Do we have a plan?”  
  
The original members of Overwatch are trading uneasy glances; Blackwatch agents are watching Lúcio with varying levels of interest, Tracer smiling, McCree tilting his hat thoughtfully, Genji entirely motionless.  
  
Maybe, Hana thinks, this is why Winston brought in fresh blood; who else could pull everyone out of the past?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **swedish** :  
>  _djävla skit_ \- you shit  (literally; the 'you' just adds emphasis, so you would read it as someone aggressively saying 'shit', not actually calling someone a shit)
> 
>  **portuguese** :  
>  _céus_ \- oh, damn
> 
> okay fam, college orientation is two days in and i'm very, very tired both mentally and physically, so i may not be able to respond to comments before passing out tonight. i'm so sorry. **there is also a distinct possibility i will not be able to update tomorrow** because i don't have the next chapter partly written out yet and i'm not sure if i'll have the mental stamina to get it all done in a few hours. i apologize!! but life gets busy and i'm still in the process of sorting out my classes, labs, seminars, what have you. for now, **i'll be attempting to update every other day** starting on monday - and i've been able to stick to the update-once-per-day schedule so well that i don't think you need to be worried about a long hiatus.
> 
> that being said - all of your comments are appreciated and i love every single one of them. i just can't get to them right now. i'll try to catch up later this week when my days are a bit less hectic, so thanks in advance for your patience c:
> 
> also on that note, i've had no time to come up with headcanons so i'm sorry to say i don't have any this time around. they will be back next chapter, pinky promise! just a little too pressed for time to sit and think of things for each character before i need to jet. again, apologies, and thank you in advance (hopefully) for your understanding. <3


	52. what happened when genji cooked dinner that one time?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few days have passed. Hana and 76 chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a wonderful day today!

Hana watches from the counter as Satya straightens up from where she had been crouched, hands moving in gentle, smooth patterns, until a blue, glowing version of the last missing stove part floated in ethereal blue. A few more movements of her fingers and a white and blue piece fell into her palm, shiny and new, and she hands it to Torbjörn to insert into the proper place.  
  
“Never thought I’d be grateful for your help, lass,” Torbjörn says, grudgingly admiring, carefully removing himself from the base of the stove-oven fusion. “All right, Winston, lower away.”  
  
The gorilla grunts and gingerly places the oven in its place in kitchen, nestled between a countertop and the refrigerator. Beyond the fact that it is now an amusing conglomeration of blue, white, and metal, it looks exactly like the old one and, as Torbjörn quickly demonstrates as soon as it’s been secured, it functions the same way, too.  
  
“I am glad that I was able to help,” Satya says, smiling hesitantly, hands clasped neatly in front of her. “I still believe it would have been more efficient for all parts to have been made from hard-light, but - ”  
  
“Young people these days, no appreciate for the hard work that goes into smithing,” Torbjörn grumps before the woman can finish. Satya’s smile becomes steely and flinty; Hana exchanges glances with 76, who is leaning back on the counter next to her, arms crossed, unreadable due to his visor. Winston sighs, too, and gives both 76 and Hana a wave as he leaves the kitchen; a smart move, Hana thinks, and she hops off the counter to follow 76 out as an argument springs up behind them.  
  
“She’s gotten more comfortable,” 76 remarks as they reenter the mess.  
  
“She and Torbjörn will be friends, I think,” Hana says. She’s fairly sure of herself, but then again, who could know for certain. “They bonded by yelling at Genji.”  
  
“There was no reason to use his dragonblade to open a bottle of sauce,” 76 agrees.  
  
“Everything else was fine up until that point,” Hana says mournfully. “I cannot believe he ruined six packages of rice noodles. I was going to eat those.”  
  
“So it’s the rice noodles that are important, not the stove, oven, and microwave?” 76 laughs when she gives him a sour look. “What, you were going to eat them all at the same time?”  
  
“After working out with you once, I think I could,” Hana says, shuddering. Never again would she wake up that ungodly hour to go through a workout so intense she lounged in bed for the rest of the day; super-soldier genes are entirely unfair, she’s decided, as 76 lets out another laugh. “Only because I watched it happen can I believe that you can break a treadmill simply by running on it too - ”  
  
Hana breaks off abruptly when Ana steps into the room, quiet and regal. A swipe of white hair frames her injured eye, and if she notices Hana watching her, she doesn’t react, instead making her way to the kitchen without a word. Torbjörn calls out a gruff greeting when she enters, briefly ending his and Satya’s argument, and then Hana breathes out soft sigh of relief.  
  
“Everything all right?” 76 says, undoubtedly studying her behind his visor.  
  
Hana shrugs, short and quick. After a moment she decides that isn't sufficient, though, and so she asks, “Is it wrong that I cannot bring myself to like her?”  
  
“You thought she was going to kill me,” 76 points out. “I’d say it’s a reasonable reaction.”  
  
“But she was not,” Hana replies, sitting down hard at one of the table benches, back against the flat surface with her legs just too short to reach the next table bench over and act as a footrest. “My dislike of her is - it should not be a problem. I have had reactions like when she first came here before and I have managed to overcome them within a day.” She sighs, and when 76 takes a seat beside her, she leans on his shoulder. “It has been nearly a week.”  
  
“Healing takes time,” 76 says, nudging his elbow against her side. “Don’t push if you’re not ready.”  
  
“But I feel like I am being unfair.”  
  
“Just because you feel obligated to talk to her doesn’t mean you can or should.”  
  
Hana processes this for a few seconds before she nudges him back. “For a person as inwardly chaotic as you, you can be surprisingly wise.”  
  
“It’s what happens when you get old, as it turns out.”  
  
The silence that follows is comfortable, filled with Torbjörn and Satya’s soft but persistent arguing, the clanks and slams from Ana looking through the cupboards, the laughter coming from the next table over as Tracer, Zenyatta, and Genji play what appears to be a lopsided game of Clue; Zenyatta has been winning consistently, it seems, given the amount of betting pieces gathered at his elbow - Hana squints and sees small candies, one poker chip, a few pens, other bits and bobs. Ana stays in the kitchen instead of coming into the mess, neatly slicing through Satya and Torbjörn’s argument, and Hana is a little grateful as she turns to 76. She doesn’t think she could handle a conversation with the woman right now.  
  
“Hey,” Hana says, and 76 turns his head marginally in her direction. “You and Ana never did talk about how you survived. Not to everyone else, at least.”  
  
“I haven’t told you, either,” he points out.  
  
Hana scoffs. “You know what I mean.”  
  
76 hums acknowledgement, doesn’t answer right away. Hana kicks her feet slightly before drawing them up to her chest, hooking her arms around them and settling more of her weight against 76’s arm, picking at the hem of her socks.  
  
“It was messy,” he says at last. “Only things that saved me were my genes. Easy to leave behind enough to get a solid ID, then I made sure I wouldn’t be tracked, then I booked it.”  
  
“Ew,” Hana says, making a face.  
  
“Mm-hm,” 76 says agreeably. “Pretty lucky I made it out at all. Helped that one of my biotic fields was still intact, but I didn’t have anything to for stitches, so.”  
  
“So, scars.”  
  
He nods. “Didn’t deploy the field until I was an hour’s run out. From there it was place to place until my condition had stabilized a bit more.”

He'd been sprinting for a full hour after getting grievously injured? Hana shakes her head in both wonder and exasperation; just another thing that tells her what kind of person 76 is, at the end of the day.  
  
“Why did you hide the fact that you were alive?” Hana asks, and he turns his visor on her; she gets the sense he’s about to answer and she cuts him off before he can. “I know you originally said you would not tell anyone here because you are not the same person, and I realize that if Talon had known you had been alive, you would have been their primary target. But - before all of that.” She looked directly at the glowing red line, brows furrowed. “Why keep it to yourself?”  
  
He continues to look at her as he thinks, in that too-many-things-at-once way of his. Hana can recognize it just through body language, and she merely settles the side of her head against his shoulder and waits.  
  
“No one knew who I was. No one knew my agenda. I was harder to stop,” he says at last, leaning back against the table. He tilts his head at her, and his voice is neutral but she can hear the steel in the undertone. “That kind of anonymity is the best way to figure out what happened in Geneva, isn’t it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so many of you left wonderful comments yesterday and it kills me inside that i just don't have the mental fortitude to actually respond to them ;-; just know they are all appreciated, more than i could ever say and more than you could know, and your well-wishes have definitely kept me going throughout the day <3
> 
> about college so far, since some people seemed interested - i absolutely adore my roommate (she is the coolest bean), my campus is beautiful, and taking just a single day break from this fic has been very conducive to my mental well-being c: i'm planning to go for a compsci-econ double major (long-term goal is law school after undergrad :o), and other than that, it's been a lot of running around to get to orientation events! and quite a bit of stressing about classes, which have been mostly sorted out by now... though i still have to register for them. so! all in all, it's been a great learning experience and even though i'm bone-tired, i'm enjoying myself immensely c: 
> 
> as for fic comments: as the summary notes, a few days have passed since the conference room meeting and people have begun to settle in with the idea that jack and ana are back in base. plans are still being made about reaper, don't worry! let's just call this chapter a bit of calm before the storm c;
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- ana can breakdance. once lúcio figures this out, he starts composing a song just for her that reflects her tastes in music (traditional music from her home country mixed with alternative pop and new age and such). against all odds, these two become very good friends  
> \- winston hates eyedrops  
> \- mercy, upon discovering the salt plate in the kitchen, almost throws it away before she remembers how the whole debacle had been, in its own way, unifying for overwatch when it had been steadily falling apart. she confiscates it, presumably for health reasons, but it has a special place in the shelf of her office (which no one enters because otherwise they would die)  
> \- zenyatta and tracer become best buds by virtue of pranking genji into oblivion (there's a reason zeny keeps winning that clue game c;)  
> \- symmetra and torbjörn do eventually become better friends - they're just the kind of people who communicate with banter that sounds like they hate each other. if approached and asked whether they consider the other a friend, they will go silent for a bit before referring to them as "barbarian" and "know-it-all" respectively  
> \- hana first called 76 "inwardly chaotic" because she knew he had a lot of Feelings and Emotions and Mental Scars that he showed no one despite them affecting his viewpoint on life, command, and battle. he finds this term remarkably apt, and though hana has been gently coaxing him to talk about his problems, he has yet to open up to her  
> \- where is reinhardt in this chapter? i wonder why winston had to keep the oven lifted and not him...  
> \- mccree drinks iced tea and, once hanzo arrives, it becomes a point of humorous contention (at least for him)


	53. OPERATION: LOST HEROES (part 1 of 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana is doing her laundry. Not even an hour later, she knows she is going to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a dandy day today!

Hana is in the laundry room when Athena says from the ceiling, “Agent Song, please report to the hangar immediately.”  
  
She freezes for a split second before shoving the rest of her clothes into the dryer, running a finger over the filter to get the lint out, throwing one of those white paper things into the dryer proper, and starting it with a few practiced jabs at the buttons. Then she’s bolting for her room, tilting her head back to direct at the ceiling, “Where’s my mech?”  
  
“In the hangar, Agent Song.” A slight pause, as Hana slams her door open, not even waiting for it to close before she’s yanking her her sweater off to get into her bodysuit, and after a few awkward moments where the zipper gets stuck and she’s struggling with it Athena says teasingly, “Your punctuality is appreciated.”  
  
“Thanks, Athena,” Hana says, sarcasm giving her words a bit of bite. Athena huffs out a gentle laugh but doesn’t comment, and finally the damned zipper figures its life out and behaves like the rest of her clothes and she’s able to get the bodysuit suit on and go out the door, hooking her gun to her hip as she goes. She can only hold a dead sprint for a few seconds, so it’s not long before she’s slowed down to a fast run. Hallways pass in brightly colored blurs. Outside, it’s a beautiful evening, too early for dinner still; the breeze brushing past her cheeks is warm and gentle to the touch, and the air smells refreshingly of the sea as she continues to the hangar. She’s the only one outside, it seems. In fact, she hadn’t seen anyone else during her frenzied run out here.  
  
_Odd_ , she thinks. What could be happening? She supposes she’ll know as she turns the corner to the hangar and pushes through the door, only to slow to a confused halt when she sees only Tracer, McCree and Lúcio standing around a quietly-humming Thunderbird. Tracer is jabbering into her comm, too quietly for Hana to hear from here, and it’s only when McCree lifts his hand in a wave that Hana comes closer.  
  
“ _Boa noite_ ,” Lúcio greets her as she approaches. He looks tired, maybe even a little annoyed.  
  
“ _Annyeong haseyo_ ,” she replies, casting a look to the left and seeing the pink MEKA waiting patiently in the corner, tucked behind some large storage boxes. Where it usually stays nowadays, Hana’s beginning to note. “What is going on? Is this a mission?”  
  
“Yep,” McCree drawls, and Hana wrinkles her nose when she sees his cigarillo is actually lit. He doesn’t miss the change in her expression and makes a point of turning his head slightly so the smoke doesn’t go into her face when he exhales. He grins at her thumbs-up. “You didn’t tell anyone you came here, did ya?”  
  
“I did not,” Hana says, giving him a bewildered look. “Is this - is this not sanctioned?”  
  
“Nope,” McCree says. “I’ll explain more on the way, if you wanna go get your mech up in the plane there.”  
  
Lúcio shrugs when Hana turns a beseeching glance to him; seems he doesn’t know any more than she does at the moment, and with one last, lingering look on McCree, wherein she weighs the pros and cons of listening to him before deciding  _fuck it_ , she darts over to her mech and slips inside. It presses comfortingly against her as it powers up and then she’s urging it forward into the Thunderbird, as Tracer ends her conversation on comm and blinks back to where McCree and Lúcio are waiting. Once Hana has guided her MEKA into the plane, the other two soon follow - and then Tracer’s steering the Thunderbird up and out and Gibraltar fades away in the distance.  
  
“ _Okay, loves, we are on our way!_ ” Tracer says, voice crackling over intercom. “ _Thanks for coming on such short notice! Wasn’t sure you’d show, D.Va._ ”  
  
“I - you’re welcome?” Hana says, exchanging a perplexed glance with Lúcio. “What is happening?”  
  
“Well, what we’re off to do ain’t strictly legal,” McCree says, giving them both an easy smile that completely belies his words. Though everything Overwatch does is still illegal currently, despite Winston, Torbjörn, and Dr. Ziegler meeting at least once a week with the U.N. to discuss the issue, this frank admission is enough to get Hana equal parts intrigued and anxious. She swallows the lump in her throat. “You know how Reinhardt and Genji haven’t been around base much?”  
  
… To be completely honest, Hana had not. She figured that Genji had squirreled himself away somewhere after Torbjörn and Satya had tag-teamed to scold him, though in retrospect it's a little weird he hadn’t once emerged to play any games with her, as he tends to do when he's bored. And as for Reinhardt - yeah, she has no excuse for that. Reinhardt can be heard from pretty much anywhere no matter where you are on Gibraltar. The silence should have tipped her off, and looking at McCree's carefully neutral expression, it's clear something is wrong. Now it’s just a question of _what_.  
  
“Figured as much,” McCree says, noting her guilty look. Lúcio’s, too, she’s relieved to find; at least she’s not alone in her poor observation skills. “They’ve been doing some diggin’ around in the past, y'see. Gettin’ Jack and Ana back all at once was a bit of a shock for ‘em, or for Rein at least - so he went to get some peace n'quiet.”  
  
“Did Tracer fly them to - wherever they are?” Hana asks.  
  
“ _Yep!_ ” Tracer answers. “ _It’s not far, don’t you worry._ ”  
  
“Hard not to at this point,” Lúcio mutters, just loud enough for Hana to pick up. She feels her lips twitch in the barest of wry smiles in response; whatever is going to happen probably isn’t good.  
  
“Basically, we’re goin’ in to pick up our friends,” McCree continues on without missing a beat, rolling his serape - she’s been recently corrected that that is the correct term for his red poncho thing - between his fingers. “Thing is, they’ve found somethin’ a bit interestin’ in their little adventure outta town.”  
  
“Something interesting as in my defense matrix is needed,” Hana guesses, because why else would they take her with if they already have Reinhardt? “Are we expecting heavy fire?”  
  
McCree’s smile is thin. “Somethin’ like that.”  
  
“That isn’t cryptic at all,” Lúcio says, a little sour, and Hana realizes he must have been in the middle of mixing something. Cruel and unusual punishment, Hana thinks; pulling Lúcio away from his turntables in the middle of a composition is a feat, one usually accompanied by a continually pouting and vaguely passive-aggressive Lúcio - a far cry from his typical sunny demeanor. “Just tell us what we’re going up against.”  
  
“Apparently,” McCree says, “An omnic.”  
  
Lúcio deadpans, “Just one omnic?”  
  
“Not the ones you’d see on the street. This one is a Siege Automaton.”  
  
The name triggers a whole bunch of memories at once: documentaries, textbooks, illustrations, Hana learning that Siege Automatons “Bastion” units had made up the bulk of the omnic’s army during the Omnic Crisis. They had all been dismantled or disassembled following the end of the Crisis; the fact that there is one here, in a presumably remote and unpopulated area in Germany, is very curious.

“A what now?” Lúcio asks.  
  
“Basically a walking turret.” Mm, yep, that's an accurate description. “It’s holed up in Reinhardt’s old stomping grounds, big ol’ castle in Germany. Need to get it out of the way to go deeper inside.”  
  
“So we’re going to fight it.”  
  
“Seems so.”  
  
“Why couldn’t you have grabbed Mercy for this?” Lúcio grumbles, crossing his arms. Hana gives his shoulder a few pats in solidarity, to which he flashes her a small, quick smile. “This many people seems like overkill for a single omnic - _even_ if it's a walking turret,” he adds before McCree can point it out.  
  
“What we need is a sniper,” McCree drawls, ever-patient and obnoxious. “Since we don’t, us on the offense need to get close to cut it up, providin' we're actually killin' the thing. You’re here t’make sure we don’t die, and Hana is gonna let us get in close in the first place.”

“Not Reinhardt?” Hana asks, curious.

“Didn’t bring his armor with him,” McCree says. “Didn’t think he’d need it for a short trip - didn’t want it, neither. S’why Genji went with him, just in case, among other things.”  
  
“And this is unsanctioned,” Hana clarifies.  
  
“Yep. Soon as U.N. figures out there’s a killer robot in Eichenwalde, though - that’ll cause a mass panic. Best we take it out ‘fore anything bad happens.”  
  
“Why would Winston not send us officially, though?”  
  
“Eh, just politicking,” McCree says, waving a hand, and Hana resolves to ask 76 about just how many laws she’s broken by going on this little escapade as soon as she gets back. “Blackwatch takes care of its own, and Genji's one of us. You know how it is. Tracer and I’ve done this before.”  
  
“What if we are caught?”  
  
“We won’t be caught.” A promise, and he gives her a pretty little smile. Seems odd that his teeth are white when he smokes. “We’re professionals, D.Va. There’s a reason Blackwatch was kept secret fer so long.”  
  
Hana purses her lips, knows she’s not going to get any further with the cowboy no matter how many questions she asks. It’s time to change course, so she does. “Are we trying to kill it?”  
  
McCree’s eyebrows rise up; whatever had been expecting hadn’t been that, though he doesn’t so much as miss a beat when he says, “Not at the moment. Genji’s been tryin’ to communicate with it, but it’s respondin’ with gibberish, accordin’ to him. He can make out a few words, but they don’t make sense on their own.”  
  
Lúcio’s feet tap restlessly on the metal floor of the Thunderbird as he says, “Such as?”  
  
“Er, lemme see - its coordinates, somethin’ about yellow. Believe the only word Genji actually picked out from the chatter was Ganymede, which could mean anythin’.”  
  
“Great,” Hana says sarcastically, just as Tracer calls over intercom, “ _All right, loves, buckle up for landing!_ ”  
  
Eichenwalde ends up being a village of sorts - a village long abandoned to nature, with narrow, winding roads leading up to a castle perched delicately on a hill, all of it overrun with greenery. The houses are small and compact and remind her of medieval cottages one might see in other European countries, in old towns that have preserved themselves since the Middle Ages. Though simple in design, the houses seem ornate, almost, as far as cottages go; Hana hasn’t ever studied architecture, but the style around her appeals to her visually as she, McCree, Lúcio, and Tracer silently make their way to where the castle sits.  
  
The castle has a stately bridge leading to a wide, expansive door, and one of the doors has been opened, presumably by Reinhardt and Genji. It’s through it that Hana and her squadmates slip inside. The interior is cool and musty; dust floats in the air, visible in the evening sunlight streaking through high, narrow windows, and Hana’s mech automatically adjusts her view so she can see better. It’s quiet, save for the distant sound of gunfire, only audible if she really focuses her hearing on it and nothing else - likely from the omnic.  
  
“ _Hana, glad you and the others could make it,_ ” Genji says through comm, suddenly and without warning. “ _I will send your mech my coordinates. Please come as soon as you are able._ ”  
  
“Of course,” Hana says, only slightly caught off-guard, watching her mech’s hub bring up a rudimentary map of the area and place a glowing, lime-green dot on where Genji presumably is. Nearby, a blue dot marks Reinhardt’s location; a red dot marks where the omnic is, she would assume. It looks like the omnic has set itself up in a place to block the entrance to what appears to be the throne room, and while Reinhardt can push closer, something continues to drive him behind cover.  
  
“ _Be wary upon approach and stay behind cover if possible. It opens fire on anything that moves, and my attempts to talk it down, so far, have been fruitless._ ” Genji sounds frustrated as he mutters, “ _Master Zenyatta would know what to do._ ”  
  
“Copy that,” Hana says, and then adds, “We will figure something out.”  
  
“ _I am loathe to kill it, Hana. Please do not attack._ ”  
  
“Understood.” She glances at McCree, Tracer, and Lúcio through her side cameras; they’re all listening intently, so it’s more of a precaution when she asks, “Did everyone hear that?”  
  
“Lucky that old Torb isn't here!” Tracer says with a giggle in response, and Hana takes the lead through the castle depths.  
  
They’d gone through a side entrance, so they merely have to circle around large, airy corridors until they are at the front of the castle. A wide, arched doorway leads to the throne room; Hana can see Genji and Reinhardt hiding out behind some pillars, the latter rumbling something to Genji, who nods, and that’s when -  
  
D.Va slams down, hard, into place when she notices Reinhardt’s bleeding because he’s not wearing his Crusader armor right now, he really must not have been expecting any resistance, and then she’s saying, “Genji, we are here. Is there a plan?”  
  
“ _I am currently in communication with the omnic. Reinhardt will make his way to your location; Bastion managed to hit him several times._ ”  
  
“ _Not just flesh wounds,_ ” Reinhardt grunts, sounding far more serious in the midst of battle than D.Va is used to, and that’s when she notices one of his arms is hanging uselessly at his side.  
  
“Bastion?” Lúcio echoes.  
  
“ _It is shorter to say Bastion than to say ‘SST Laboratories Siege Automaton E54’,_ ” Genji explains. “ _Excuse me for a moment. I think I may have -_ ”  
  
Genji takes one step out into the open and the omnic stops firing, the silence eerie and echoing in D.Va's ears. Reinhardt takes advantage of the distraction to scurry to the corridor where D.Va and friends are, where Lúcio pumps up his music, sets the sonic amplifier to the side, and quickly, efficiently begins to examine Reinhardt’s more grievous injuries. D.Va turns her attention back to Genji, who is creeping closer and closer to the omnic, sword still in hand but down at his side as he goes closer. McCree’s hand is tight over his revolver; Tracer is biting her lip, rocking back and forth on her heels.

The omnic itself appears to be an older unit - though it seems that its mechanisms still work perfectly fine, it has grown a layer of grass, dirt and plants all over itself, complete with wildflowers that bounce slightly as each shot fires out of its gun. The juxtaposition would be amusing in any other circumstance. Right now, it's merely ignored as D.Va watches Genji approach, silent and steady, with her breath caught in her throat.  
  
Maybe it’s because D.Va’s read and learned so much about Bastion units. Maybe it’s because D.Va drives a mech and is used to inorganic movements. Whatever it is, she knows the instant Bastion changes its mind, and she yells, “Genji!” just as Bastion opens fires point blank and, just like that, Genji falls, visor flaring bright green once before fading to black; not dead, D.Va thinks, likely shutting down to prevent death, but she’s not taking any chances. Bastion continues to shoot wildly, aim erratic, before it trains on where they're taking cover behind a corner and pummels the thick stone wall separating them with bullet after bullet.  
  
“I will cover you,” D.Va says after a moment's though. She’s not sure who she’s addressing; at this point, she doesn’t think it matters. “Are you ready?”  
  
“I’ll cause a distraction,” Tracer says before anyone can confirm, and then she’s blinking around in the open area, drawing Bastion’s attention away from Genji’s prone form. There’s no laughter this time; her face is a serious, deadly mask of concentration as she dodges around bullets and shoots at the omnic between its minute breaks in fire, and D.Va turns her mech so she can see McCree, who's spinning Peacekeeper in his hands.  
  
“After you, darlin’,” McCree says, and so D.Va hits her defense matrix and steps out into the open.  
  
Bastion immediately ceases its attempts to go after Tracer and instead goes for her, being the larger and bulkier target; the rate of fire is faster than she’s used to, but D.Va has by far outperformed her peers when it came to actually using the MEKA’s defense matrix, and so she quickly and easily scans each bullet and flicks them out of the way with the appropriate motion of the laser, darting from cover to cover, letting her defense matrix recharge before moving closer to where Genji lay. McCree sticks close behind her as Lúcio keeps his music amped up and loud, keeping Hana’s mech from flipping out when a few stray shots hit, and soon McCree’s looped Genji over his shoulder and they’re retreating back to cover.  
  
Except, D.Va realizes belatedly, cover is too far away for her to reach without her defense matrix shutting down, now that she's moving backwards. She’ll have almost three seconds during which Bastion will be able to shoot her. “Run for it,” she tells McCree, and then, “Tracer, please come help McCree carry Genji to safety.”  
  
No one questions her judgment as Tracer blinks behind her and takes some of Genji’s weight off of McCree’s shoulders; and instead of going for cover, D.Va merely moves to block Bastion’s view of the three Blackwatch agents, drawing Bastion’s fire even when her defense matrix fails. She’ll just use her self-destruct mechanism, she thinks as her mech starts to flash red at her; it’ll be fine -  
  
She shouts in alarm when she’s ejected without warning, flipping high in the air and managing to land on her feet behind her mech - and she watches with a dawning sense of horror as it breaks apart in front of her, sparking, dismantled before her eyes. Bastion is still shooting at her and the closest cover away from it is almost three meters away; D.Va hits the ground behind the ruins of her mech, her only cover for now, and presses her back against what used to be a smooth cockpit of metal and glass.  
  
Her options are very limited. With Reinhardt out of commission, there’s no one here to shield her retreat, and so she takes a deep breath, hops up into a crouch, and waits for a break in Bastion’s almost incessant fire. It takes it almost a second to reload; she can make it three meters in a second or two if she’s sprinting, but she’ll have to start from a dead stop, which means she’ll probably be in the open for maybe half a second, probably more. That's enough to get her killed, knowing Bastion's rate of fire.  
  
“D.Va!” someone shouts, aghast, and then the gunfire stops, and Hana surges forward. One second - two seconds - and three seconds, almost four, and by some miracle she gets behind the pillar without any problems. Bastion still hasn’t opened fire, though, and with a small sense of dread she debates whether moving toward the next pillar or waiting until Bastion starts shooting and goes through a full clip again. She can see Tracer, McCree and Lúcio talking to each other with rapid hand motions and fearful glances in her direction, but she knows she can’t rely on them: Bastion won’t aim for Tracer, not when there’s an easier target, and even if Tracer managed to whittle Bastion down, D.Va remembers that they have a self-repair mechanism.  
  
Forward, she thinks, and with a deep breath she gets ready to push off of the pillar towards the next, a few meters in front of her -  
  
only to stumble forward when the pillar she’d been going for _crumbles_ in front of her, a thunderous noise screaming through the air as she automatically bolts to the left, hands over her head, to avoid falling rock. A quick glance to the side shows her that Bastion is no longer in turret form, and her heart stops when she sees that it is now in the shape of a tank.  
  
_I'm going to die._  
  
Hana comes to terms with this in about half a second and closes her eyes; it’s D.Va who shouts at Tracer not to blink in and darts behind the next pillar, fear drumming up her heart rate and breathing and making everything around her brighter, more focused, wincing when pillar crumbles with another deafening boom as well and going towards the next bit of cover to weave in and out of Bastion’s range. The long cannon gapes at her, following her motions, and everything she’s thinking boils down to _do NOT let it hit me_ before she hears a chirp to her left. She whips her head around to look, not because she’s curious but because it had been so damned close -

and there is a little yellow bird perched on her shoulder. It is curiously poking at her hair with its beak and, at her sudden motions, gives her a cheerful chirp that completely undermines the current situation she is in.  
  
And then Bastion lets out a series of beeping noises and, right before her eyes, unfolds from its tank form to the standing unit that she remembers from her textbooks, red light flashing to a robin's egg blue instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **portuguese** :  
>  _boa noite_ \- good evening  (and also good night, I suspect)
> 
>  **korean** :  
>  _annyeong haseyo_ \- hello  (casual with a bit of formal)
> 
> hey, look - it's ganymede and bastion! :] and look at hana being a badass and saving her friends! and she didn't die!
> 
> and by the way: we've hit 1.000+ kudos and 21.000+ hits (in no small part to [ArcaneAdagio](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcaneAdagio/pseuds/ArcaneAdagio)'s shout-out, i'm sure c:)! holy shit. thank you all for the support! <3
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- winston and ana are the kind of people who think puns are hilarious  
> \- mercy often doesn't sleep enough and people have witnessed her walking into doors and walls while she's staring down at a tablet or datapad. tracer once caught this on a vine and posted it, whereupon she disappeared for a week and, upon her return, was entirely the same as before, but she refused to talk about what happened  
> \- zenyatta is a great white-noise machine. can't sleep? he'll just broadcast rain or waves on the shore or whatever if it helps. he can do audio books too, though most of the time he could also just read the book to you because he's chill like that  
> \- genji and mccree are often victims of tracer and zenyatta's pranks, and their methods to get revenge usually involve hiding the food in the kitchen for tracer and physically jumping on zenyatta, usually his back, to make him fall to the floor. (it takes both of them to do this, but they have managed to sneak up on zenyatta several times already)  
> \- symmetra avoids 76 because she feels compelled to call people with an honorific followed by their last name, but half of the time she isn't sure what to call 76 so she just. doesn't talk to him. (her go-to is commander morrison, but - but what if it's more accurate to say commander soldier? that sounds dumb. what about mister 76? she is very confused have pity on my precious bae)  
> \- hana can't tie shoelaces using the shortcut. she has to make bunny ears with the laces and then loop them like that.  
> \- torbjörn once ate scrap metal as a joke. it had no adverse effects, so sometimes people can catch him chewing on a screw or something while he's working, and if he swallows it, he just kind of shrugs and rolls with it  
> \- lúcio and reinhardt once worked on a composition together and it was a disaster. lúcio included it on his newest album anyway as a bonus track, and it became one of the many memes associated with lúcio's name (continually referenced as his fame grows)  
> 


	54. OPERATION: LOST HEROES (part 2 of 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bastion apologizes, it turns out genji has more than one purpose for going to eichenwalde, and shit hits the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a longer chapter (3.000+ words!) _and_ a stupendous day today!

It’s a long, long moment before D.Va realizes that Bastion - who is now walking and towers over her - is actually intently watching the bird on her shoulder rather than her, though it becomes rather obvious when the bird sings a few notes at the robot, at which it responds with a few chirps of its own. The moment is surreal, the air thick like molasses and her chest heaving for air as the fear passes and the adrenaline fades from her bloodstream, and it’s with a scowl and a sharp jerk of her head that D.Va shuts down the panic attack before it can start.  
  
The movement is enough to get the little bird to shift on her shoulder, flapping its wings a bit as it chirrups almost scoldingly at her, and then it settles again and D.Va is struck with the fact that she is staring up at a giant omnic programmed to kill and is still very much alive - staring up at a Bastion unit that is currently tilting its head at her, and she watches with equal parts trepidation and incredulity as it raises a hand and gives her a small wave.  
  
Hesitantly, she lifts a hand and waves back.  
  
Bastion beeps at her, once, sounding pleased, and then follows the sound with a whole bunch of other sounds that she can’t hope to translate, and then it lets out an alarmed server noise when she sinks to her knees; she hadn’t even noticed her legs beginning to bend, but everything's happening so quickly that she feels like she's getting mental whiplash. Fortunately, Bastion doesn’t try to help her up, but the little bird does hop down from her shoulder to the ground and tilts a little yellow head at her, cooing quietly as her breathing slowly evens out.  
  
“Holy fuck,” she manages after a while, bracing her hands on the ground. It takes another moment before she’s pushing herself backwards, rocking slightly on her heels before she finds her balance. McCree, Tracer, Lúcio, and Reinhardt are still waiting in careful silence behind her, she thinks, operating on the idea that Bastion might strike if they approach, and she remains crouching, steeling her courage as she lifts a finger to the bird near the ground. It does a cute little bounce up and chirps cheerily at her as she pulls herself to her full height; hand visibly shaking, she offers the bird to Bastion.  
  
Bastion copies her motions, a single finger extending and lining up perfectly level with hers, eerily still and motionless as it waits. The bird takes little time to jump from perch to perch, making its way up the greenery that covers Bastion from head to toe to settle on its shoulder, where - where there is a bird’s nest. D.Va decides not to question it. “ _Annyeong_ ,” she tells Bastion instead, wincing when her voice audibly quivers.  
  
There’s a moment of silence - and then Bastion beeps twice at her, imitating her tone and voice. She has to smile at that, which makes it beep and bwoop a bit more, and then it points its hand in the direction of her fellow operatives. The sound it makes is questioning, and the gun that composes its other arm is clearly ready to fire. She’s guessing what it had been asking when she says, “They won’t attack you if you don’t attack them.”  
  
The answer seems to suffice, as the hand returns to its side and it regards her silently again, soft whirring not unlike an old computer fan echoing in the background. She wonders if it has the mental capacity to want to apologize, as she turns her head slightly, never turning her back on the omnic, and calls, “Is Genji awake?”  
  
“Unfortunately,” Genji answers tiredly, one hand braced against the side of his head. At any other time, D.Va would have found the fact that a cyborg could have a migraine hilarious. “Are you all right?”  
  
“I am fine, against all odds,” D.Va says, though she is shaking terribly and it’s only because of her soldier front that she isn’t having another panic attack from almost dying. “Could you - do you understand what Bastion is saying?”  
  
“I do not understand its noises, but I can attempt to communicate with it again,” Genji says, gingerly hobbling out into the open, one of his legs almost unable to carry any weight and the other straining to keep him from falling. Bastion makes a long, low beeping sound, almost like an apology - an answer to her question, she supposes - and D.Va can hear the strained smile in Genji’s voice. “It is asking for forgiveness. It appears Ganymede is the bird that landed on your shoulder.”  
  
“Huh,” D.Va says. Genji lets out a grunt of agreement, dragging himself closer to the omnic, and D.Va hugs her arms around herself.  
  
After that it’s quiet, interrupted only with Genji and Bastion communicating with each other via network channels and, occasionally, garbled server noises, almost. Genji stands by leaning against one of the remains of the blasted pillars, keeping one hand pressed to his head while the other arm is curled over his stomach, parts of his armor chipped and a clear liquid dripping slowly from a joint in his knee; but D.Va isn’t surprised to hear him let out a small chuckle after a few moments despite the obvious pain. Genji can make friends with anyone, including murderous robots.  
  
The bird - Ganymede, rather, seems to have taken an interest in her, though, rather than the conversation taking place. Instead of settling down on Bastion’s shoulder in the bird's nest, Ganymede flies over and decides that it’s much more interested in what’s on her head, picking up strands of hair and then putting them back down, and D.Va takes the time to go over to her mech and hunch over it, frowning at its remains. It’s… really, really bad that this is the state it’s in, especially since she doesn’t have the little mechanism that would cause the mech to reform. It’s probably somewhere in there, and she tsks under her breath - at least all of the MEKA parts are within a two meter radius; it would make for easy transport, at the very least.  
  
She looks up at the sound of rapid footsteps and straightens up completely when she sees McCree and Tracer darting towards her, matching worried frowns on their faces. Behind them, Reinhardt grunts and gently shakes off Lúcio’s supporting arm and the two of them carefully walk over, healing music still flowing from Lúcio’s sonic amplifier.  
  
“Why did you not shoot at it?” D.Va asks when the first two are close, and then she squeaks and Ganymede briefly flaps away when McCree sweeps her up in a bone-crushing hug. Tracer throws herself onto the other side, and then Reinhardt scoops them all up and D.Va is vaguely terrified but also very warm, wrapping her arms around the person closest to her - McCree in this case. It’s only when Reinhardt puts her down that McCree pulls of his serape and settles it on her that, belatedly, she realizes she’s actually gone into shock, which is probably why she’s shaking so much. “I - I understand that we did not want to kill it, but I was - ”  
  
“We were goin’ to, actually,” Tracer says, scowling, hands on her hips. “I was ready to go out and rip it a new one so McCree could get some shots in while it was reloading, but then you moved and, because of that, it shifted to its tank formation.”  
  
“Word of the wise, darlin’,” McCree says, and there’s something that looks like relief glimmering in his eyes, “We’ve been in this business longer than you, and trust me when I say we would’ve intervened somehow. Your mech was a much safer and sturdier cover than the pillar.” He tilted his head at her. “It ain’t your fault, promise, but we coulda avoided a situation like this if we’d all communicated with each other.”  
  
D.Va blinks at him before realizing she hadn’t been able to hear McCree, Tracer, and Lúcio talking while she’d been trying to figure out how to survive, and a quick swipe of her ear reveals that her comm is not actually there; it’s on the floor somewhere, presumably having fallen out during her mech’s explosion. McCree notes the motion and grimaces at her wordless explanation. “It sounds like you are blaming me, nonetheless,” she says instead, the words empty instead of biting.  
  
“We aren’t,” McCree says, firmly, and then he gives her a thin smile. “Sacrifice is necessary for all missions, o’course. Just - next time, maybe fewer heroics, yeah?”  
  
“And you can count of us to help you,” Tracer adds, pouting, hands on her hips. “Even if it doesn’t look it. We don’t leave our own behind.”  
  
D.Va doesn’t answer right away, instead tugging McCree’s serape more tightly around herself. It smells of smoke and it’s a little scratchy, but it is keeping her warm and the familiarity is nice, too. Slowly, she lets herself relax slightly, straightening her spine to stretch before hunching over and burrowing in on herself.  
  
“Okay,” she says at last. There’s many complicated reasons why she had acted the way she did, but she figures there will be time to explain them later. “I am sorry.”  
  
“No need,” Tracer says, as if that will clear all of her guilt and unease off the table, and then she turns to Reinhardt. “So, love! He still safe and sound in there?”  
  
“ _Ja_ ,” Reinhardt says. He lifts his chin slightly, towards the direction of the throne room. It’s dark in there; one door is open a crack, and Hana can’t see inside. “I worry that it may not be safe for him to remain here, however, and - ah, but Genji, will Bastion be a problem?”  
  
“It panicked,” Genji says, still motionless, leaning against the pillar. Bastion lets out a whirring sound, shortly followed by a few bweeps. It’s strangely charming. “Ganymede had disappeared for a time and Bastion had feared the worst when you and I arrived, Reinhardt. It is harmless now.”  
  
“Harmless? It is all relative, I suppose,” Reinhardt says with a laugh, half the loudness it should be. Bastion makes a beeping sound and Reinhardt gives it a hard, cutting glance before looking towards the throne room. D.Va's not sure what beef he has with the omnic, but given that it's Reinhardt, there must be a reason for it. “Lena, would it be possible to move him?”  
  
“There's a _person_ in there? Who?” Lúcio demands.  
  
“A hero!” Tracer chirps.  
  
“Commander Balderich Von Adler,” Reinhardt clarifies. “He and his men were some of the most fearsome Crusadors in our ranks. Without them, we would not have been able to drive the omnics out of Germany.”  
  
Lúcio glances towards the throne room, uneasy. “So he's dead and he’s been sitting here all this time?”  
  
“Who would dare to disturb a legend?” Reinhardt says, before he repeats, “So, Lena, it is possible to move him, _ja_?”  
  
“I don’t see why not,” Tracer says with a quick little nod. “I’ll run back and swing by here for a quick pickup, yeah? For your mech, too, D.Va.”  
  
“I appreciate it,” D.Va says, and she’d forgotten that Ganymede was still on her head at this point when the little bird chirps. She would’ve thought the bird would have flown off after the chaotic group hug, but it seems pretty happy to sit and lightly tug at her hair, almost like the dark, brown strands are a toy. “It will save me quite a bit of time.” Not that she can actually do repairs, but maybe she’ll get lucky with her squadmates back in Korea if she asks for blueprints.  
  
“Ah, one thing,” Genji says, vents on his shoulders letting out a brief puff of steam when he grunts and puts some weight on his bad leg. “We must wait for someone to arrive before we go, Lena. That is the other task I needed to do here. He has told me he will arrive in another hour.”  
  
“An hour? Psh. In that case, it can’t hurt to look around,” Tracer says with a grin. “It’s a beautiful castle, Reinhardt!”  
  
“A lot of death took place here,” Reinhardt says in response, stopping at where he stands in front of the throne room doors. He is no small man, but the doors are tall and wide and seem to dwarf him in size. He sounds tired, entirely out-of-character as he says, “But there is beauty in everything, if you know where to look.”  
  
“Don’t swing your arm too much!” Lúcio yelps when Reinhardt goes to push open the door, and then he’s running over and D.Va has to smile very slightly at the sight as the two enter the poorly-lit room beyond. It’s always been interesting how a battle can go from one-hundred percent to zero in the span of seconds; Bastion is intimidating but surprisingly childlike as it chirps at Ganymede on her head, who chirps back, and overall it is calm. When she breathes out again, it’s Hana who shrugs off McCree’s serape and offers it to him.  
  
“Nah, keep it for now, darlin’,” he says, turning to Genji. Hana folds it up and puts it on top of her mech. “You said you came ‘long for a couple of things, but I didn’t realize it was an actual person. Who’s this guest we’re expectin’?”  
  
Genji hesitates for a long moment before replying, “Surely you already know, Jesse.”  
  
“Reckon I might as well check, given the other unexpected surprises we’ve had today.” McCree shrugs at Genji’s prolonged look. “Can ya blame me?”  
  
“He would feel better knowing you are not out to kill him,” Genji says, a little stiff, a little warm.  
  
“I’m not. Can’t forgive him for what he did to you, though,” McCree says, and Hana is very aware that she had absolutely no idea what’s going on right now. “Wouldn’t feel a lick guilty if I need t’put him in his place.”  
  
“Absolutely,” Tracer agrees, blinking over from where she had been examining a worn tapestry to prop an elbow up on McCree’s shoulder and leaning in, a small, dangerous smirk on her face. “I know it was up to you to get in touch with him, but if there’s any funny business - ”  
  
Hana’s been digging through the wreckage of her mech at this point and finally extricates the trigger mechanism from deep inside the MEKA’s cockpit; an experimental push of the button does nothing, unfortunately, and she tucks the trigger in the only place with room: one of her shoes. Fortunately the mechanism itself is thin and flexible and she’s able to slide it under the shoe, above the sole and below her foot - really, she should’ve asked for pockets on her bodysuit, but it’s too late now - and she’s straightening up when Tracer cuts herself off and there’s a quiet, light tap behind her.  
  
“You are early. And bleeding,” Genji says, alarmed, and Hana raises her eyebrows to herself and turns around.  
  
Standing a few meters in front of them, having dropped from the new holes in the ceiling in part due to the collapsed pillars, clothes stained a damp red around his right shoulder, is a man with a slender grace that belies the gray at his temples. His black ebony hair is swept into a neat bun and frames sharp eyes narrowed in focus; a fearsome bow is held in his hands, his expression cold and cutting even as they sweep across the cyborg across from him. Hana recognizes him from the datapad she had seen McCree reading once.  
  
“It is nothing. We must leave,” Hanzo Shimada says. The blue dragons of his tattoo swirl across his arm silently as he pivots in place; he nocks another arrow, muscles bunching powerfully as he pulls it back.  
  
“You can’t just order us - ” Tracer begins, but Hanzo cuts her off.  
  
“There is no time.” He fires the arrow. It goes through one of the high, narrow windows in the main doors, flitting through the small space and landing who knows where; his aim is incredible, Hana thinks, for the front doors are not open and the openings are hardly a few centimeters wide, but she doesn't really understand why he did it as he seemingly stares at where he had fired the arrow, then looks over his shoulder in a sharp, jerking motion. “We stay, we die. It is a seven-member team, but their sniper is dangerous.”  
  
“But Adler’s body - ” Tracer cuts herself off this time and curses a string of English words that Hana has never heard of before. “Bollocks,” she says at last, pinwheeling her arms and cracking her neck, side-to-side. “I’ll get the plane. Sit tight, loves.”  
  
“They followed you?” Genji asks, attempting a step forward and gasping instead when his knee gives out and he drops in a kneel as Tracer blinks away. Hanzo twitches in a way that Hana reads as concern; he might’ve gone to the cyborg, but for some reason he’s holding himself back.  
  
“Talon followed _you_ ,” Hanzo corrects in any case, shooting a cold stare over at Hana, McCree, Bastion, the two in the throne room, and Hana’s chest constricts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **korean**  
>  _annyeong_ \- hello  (casual)
> 
>  **german**  
>  _ja_ \- yes
> 
> you can ask questions about how (and why) genji and hanzo arranged this meeting, but i won't answer them because it will be touched upon later. (how much later? who knows. even i'm not completely sure, but it will be, pinky promise.) please be patient until then! c:
> 
> but it's not looking good, eh? reinhardt doesn't have his armor, genji is severely injured, hana doesn't have her mech... and it seems that there's a talon sniper on the loose.
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- ana can wear any hat and look badass in it. that inflatable cowboy hat that's that's like ten times the size of one's head? she wears it and her enemies _still_ never see her shots coming. she's just that good, y'all.  
>  \- winston is the type of guy who would over-water a succulent because he's afraid that it needs more water  
> \- mercy is the only person who actually drinks the correct amount of water every day, along with 76. they often take water bottles with them into battle, and after some time, 76 actually carries mercy's water bottle for her so she has less stuff weighing her down  
> \- zenyatta can imitate the voices of anyone perfectly. this can be useful in battle, in creeping people out, and in reciting poetry or reading books out loud (courtesy euxiom and the liveblogging crew)  
> \- genji and hanzo are both the type of people to brood. genji pretends he doesn't, but since he has no need to sleep (though he can), it happens when no one's looking... not that genji has much to brood about these days. hanzo, meanwhile, goes out of his way to brood in solitude because he needs a lot of time to think about everything that's happened (and sulk, but you know)  
> \- symmetra sleeps with a security blanket. it's a worn, soft blue piece of fabric with small flowers of differing colors scattered on it. it's her only remnant of home that she managed to sneak into vishkar by hiding in her clothes.  
> \- hana loves pillows. if she could, she'd cover her bed in pillows. however, after the last pillow fight with genji and tracer, she refuses to let anyone else hop into her giant pile of pillows unless they sign an agreement not to do anything to them.  
> \- bastion and reinhardt don't get along, despite bastion's best efforts. reinhardt continuously tells bastion it's not its fault, that reinhardt just needs to work through his biases on his own, but it still stresses bastion out nonetheless  
> \- tracer and torbjörn bet against each other on pretty much anything that comes to mind. once tracer bet that gabe would be the one who would most likely snap and destroy the kitchen, but lost because genji got to it first. (when the swiss base blew up, neither of them brought up this particular bet again.)  
> \- lúcio looks like a cinnamon roll and is actually a cinnamon roll  
> \- mccree is the best at saving money. he is the master coupon-er, basically


	55. OPERATION: LOST HEROES (part 3 of 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D.Va didn't listen to McCree's lecture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a sublime day today!

Hana looks to her mech before she looks back at Hanzo, who is casting his eyes over their motley crew with something akin to exasperated despair. Reinhardt has yet to return from the depths of the throne room; presumably Lúcio is in there with him, and then a shadow flits across the evening sunlight dappling the floor from above and Hana makes a break for it, McCree and Bastion, surprisingly, covering her retreat as Hanzo barrels towards Genji, throwing his brother's arm over his shoulder and following them through the tall, narrow door.  
  
“What is the meaning of this‽” Reinhardt shouts as Hana makes it in, pistol raised and ready to fire. McCree’s positioned just to the left of the door, inching it shut bit by bit to reduce the probability of a shot making it through, and she hears him fan the hammer of his revolver as Hanzo stumbles in, Genji awkwardly hanging from his good arm. Once he is, Bastion backs up and positions itself inside the throne room but right next the open door before shifting into turret mode; McCree slips past him and takes up a spot behind Bastion as the omnic beings firing upon the first Talon agent to drop to the floor.  
  
“Talon. Sorry, old timer,” McCree calls back, “Didn’t mean to interrupt anythin’.”  
  
“Talon?” Reinhardt echoes. “ _Here?_ What for?”  
  
“Scratch one,” McCree says instead, then takes another shot. Bastion follows up with a pounding of bullets. “And two. Shimada, you got any more info on these bastards?”  
  
“Besides the sniper, they are mostly unremarkable - well-trained black operatives,” Hanzo says, and Hana spins to see him gently lower Genji next to a fallen stone, grimacing as he pulls on his injured arm. Hana - no, D.Va watches as the archer then tears a piece from his sheer, expensive clothes and carefully brushes fabric aside from his right shoulder to reveal a spattering of small wounds along his upper arm, telltale of a shotgun blast that had just grazed him; when she circles around him and takes the strip of clothes from him, he gives her a surprised nod of thanks and observes her motions carefully as she ties off the wounds. “The other one of note is able to teleport. It is how I was injured.”  
  
“Reaper,” McCree says, swearing softly under his breath as he takes another shot. Bastion lets out a long booping sound as it reloads; McCree covers it effortlessly.  
  
“I don’t understand anything,” Lúcio declares, and then, “Who’s this?”  
  
“My brother,” Genji says from the floor, his voice crackling for a split second before regaining its normal inflection.  
  
“Hanzo,” his brother says, watching D.Va's motions, almost hawklike.  
  
“Hanzo,” Lúcio says experimentally, the name rolling off of his tongue almost perfectly. “Okay. What’s going on?”  
  
“Talon found us,” D.Va says, finishing off the knot with a flourish. Hanzo tests the wrap and gives her a small smile; she grins back, flashing him finger guns as she gets up and grabs her pistol again. “Reaper is here. If there is a sniper, then it is probably - I know Winston mentioned her, but I do not remember her name.”  
  
“Widowmaker,” Reinhardt says with a sigh, and then he murmurs something, too quiet for D.Va to pick up, and when she turns she sees he had been addressing the large suit of armor sitting on the throne and that isn’t creepy at all. “I cannot believe the one time I do not bring my armor is the time when I need it most,” Reinhardt grumbles shortly thereafter, straightening his spine and cracking his neck.  
  
“Don’t you dare think of charging,” Lúcio warns, hooking an arm around Reinhardt’s elbow when the older man takes a step towards the throne room’s doors. He has to strain to reach that far, but his voice is deadly serious as he says, “I’m a good medic, but I’m not _that_ good. We’re better off holding our position and whittling them down from here.” Reinhardt growls under his breath, conceding the point - only for his eyes to widen seconds later as he slowly turns around to look at the lonely set of armor on the throne, and now Lúcio says, a bit nervously, mostly exasperated, “You’re really thinking about touching a dead guy’s stuff?”  
  
“I do not want to do it, either,” Reinhardt says, more irritated than angry, “But desperate times call for desperate measures, no?”  
  
“He’s a legend! You said so yourself!”  
  
“Hush, boy - I will _not_ watch my friends die when I could have been their shield,” Reinhardt snaps back. He reaches out a careful hand and lays it gently on top of a shoulder plate. “Commander Von Adler would have understood the necessary sacrifice better than anyone.”  
  
“I just - ” Lúcio throws up his hands and sighs, backing down from confrontation. “I just want to make sure you don’t regret it later. You know. _Messing with a dead dude’s stuff._ ”  
  
“With any luck, it will not be necessary,” Hanzo interrupts smoothly, standing and rolling his injured arm’s shoulder. The cloth bandage seems to suffice, and he gives D.Va a nod, one of respect, as he strides towards the open door. The dragons on his arm twirl and twine up and down his skin. “It would be wise for the omnic to move further back.”  
  
“ _Draw_ ,” McCree says instead of responding; four shots ring out and immediately McCree stumbles back, one hand against his forehead as the migraine sets in. “Bastion, you’re gonna have to move, pal.”  
  
Bastion bweeps as it swivels out of turret mode and takes a few steps back. Ganymede is perched on its shoulders and lets out an affirming chirp as Hanzo steps up and pulls one of the doors further closed, reducing both the odds of any of them getting shot but also impairing his own view of the situation outside. “You missed one,” Hanzo says after a moment.  
  
“Fucker’s barely visible from here,” McCree grumbles. “It woulda been pure luck if I’d’ve hit ‘em.”  
  
Hanzo pulls an arrow back and lets it loose. A moment later, D.Va can hear - it almost sounds like something hitting the stone again and again, in different places, as she crouches by Genji with her gun drawn and ready. McCree grimaces and glances over at the archer with an expression that is equal parts annoyance and grudging respect, and Genji lets out a hollow laugh as D.Va gingerly helps him sit up, his back leaning against a fallen stone.  
  
“What was that?” Lúcio asks, eyebrows furrowed.  
  
“A scatter arrow,” Hanzo explain curtly, and then reaches back into his quiver and draws a different arrow, firing it again in short succession. “And that - sonic arrow.” A brief pause. “There are more than seven agents. Reinforcements have arrived. The sniper - Widowmaker, you said? - has taken position by the main entryway on top of the castle. She does not appear to be aiming for us. The ghost is - ”  
  
“ - _from the shadows,_ ” a disembodied voice whispers, and then McCree’s gun is up, D.Va’s gun is up, Lúcio slams the volume on his music up and Reinhardt wrenches the hammer from the armor on the throne. Reaper’s laugh is throaty and raspy as he assesses the situation around him, and he sounds overly satisfied as he coos, “It seems Overwatch is still disorganized as it used to be.”  
  
Reinhardt roars and brings the hammer down, hard enough the stonework beneath cracks from the pressure. Reaper steps languidly away from the danger with an airy laugh, arms spread as he floats from the ground, moving gently towards cover as Bastion’s arm begins firing and Lúcio and D.Va do the same. _Temporary immunity,_ D.Va remembers, as Reinhardt rips something else from Von Adler’s other arm; a quick shake reveals it to be a particle barrier, clearly slightly battered but fully functional, and Reinhardt sets himself up in front of Lúcio and Bastion just as Reaper attempts to fire upon both.  
  
“Ain’t nearly as bad as you, Reyes,” McCree shoots back, pulling his hat lower over his face as he lines up a shot. Bastion sets itself up next to Genji, safely hidden behind Reinhardt’s shield, and begins to pound Reaper’s cover with a rain of bullets; D.Va begins the slow, painstaking task of pulling Genji behind the fallen stone his brother had rested him on, Lúcio quick to skate over and give her a helping hand. “Figures you ain’t dead, you piece of shit.”  
  
“Ah, so the pupil’s grown some backbone,” Reaper replies, mocking, He briefly ducks out of cover to fire a few shots at McCree, who moves aside so that he’s blocking Hanzo from view. The archer doesn’t appear to notice his newfound human cover, too intent in destroying the enemies aiming to enter the throne room. “It’s a shame. I did teach you all you know.”  
  
“Not everythin’,” McCree answers, and it strikes D.Va: he’s trying to buy time for Tracer, not actually provoke Reaper into coming out of the open. She finally settles Genji safely behind the rock now, out of Reaper’s line of sight, who murmurs his thanks in mumbled Japanese as Lúcio goes back into the open, music muted as it plays through their comm system instead. D.Va can’t hear it, of course, as she carefully bends Genji’s injured knee to pinch the punctured tube there shut; she’s going to have to be careful not to get hit. “Been a long time since we last met. You think I’ve learned nothin’ since then?”  
  
“You never were a good student,” Reaper hisses, and when D.Va pops a head out of cover, she yelps and slaps her back against the rock a moment later as Reaper shoots for her, shotguns loud and booming in the small confines of the throne room. She - of course he wouldn’t aim at Bastion or Lúcio, hidden as they are behind Reinhardt’s barrier, but McCree’s standing out in the open, essentially acting as Hanzo’s cover, not to mention he’s fending off a headache, so why isn’t Reaper shooting him instead?  
  
Unless…  
  
“Oh, yes, the Korean girl,” Reaper says, and it comes out a purr. D.Va bites her lip, hard, and looks as far as she dares from where she’s taking cover. “Not much of anything without your little robot, hm?”  
  
“Better than an old man with the shopping tastes of a sixteen year old boy at Hot Topic,” D.Va shoots back without thinking, flashing him her middle finger for a split second. Not her best decision, she would say, but it’s too late now to take it back.  
  
Reaper laughs, low and rumbling, and says with a dark promise, “I’ll make you regret those words, child.”  
  
Bastion makes a high-pitched whining noise. It’s set itself up in turret mode a bit further down, far enough to be out of range of Reaper’s shotguns even if it hadn’t still been behind Reinhardt’s shield, and it hasn’t stopped firing since; Reaper laughs and McCree grunts as he takes a couple of shots meant for Hanzo, his returning fire erratic and going wide, all while Lúcio holds a hand up to his headphone while the other dances across his virtual turntables. A quick glance shows D.Va that he’s contacting Gibraltar base while keeping his healing beat playing through comm; it’s with no hesitance at all that she yells back, “Just try it!”  
  
“What makes you think it will be difficult?” is Reaper’s answer, and that’s when D.Va knows.  
  
“You cannot win!” D.Va shouts, and in response Reaper shoots a couple of times at McCree, who can’t resist his honed instincts and finally rolls away to dodge; they instead hit Hanzo, who grimaces before backing up to proper cover, his ability to down the incoming enemy from outside the throne room deeply hindered from his new perch. Reaper laughs as he and McCree start exchanging bullets, and then -  
  
“Such a shame dear old 76 isn’t here, hm?” Reaper sneers, and D.Va screeches wordlessly at him, launching to her feet and more than ready to charge him herself.  
  
“Hana,” Genji says instead, and she jumps when his hand snakes up and closes around her wrist to pull her head close to his. The anger boils in her chest, but apparently she’s not the only one who’s realized who has realized Talon’s true goal; even though she can’t see his face, she can hear the agitation in Genji’s voice. “We must hold this position until Lena is here and retreat. Do not engage him.”  
  
“No,” D.Va says, ice cold, tightening her grip on her handgun as she wrenches her wrists out of his grip. “I cannot stay.”  
  
“You cannot leave,” Genji says just as sharply, hand dropping to his side with an audible thunk. “You will be defenseless on your own.”  
  
“As soon as I am gone, they will leave the rest of you alone. If we have not made contact with the sniper, then she must be in pursuit of Tracer; there is no way she will arrive in time.”  
  
“You have sacrificed yourself enough,” Genji says, and now his voice is unreadable. “Your selflessness is admirable, but out of place. Leaving now will only have you slaughtered.”  
  
( _Blood; dangerously still. They’re dead because of you -_ )  
  
“Stop,” D.Va hisses to Hana, slamming one hand against her temple. Genji starts at the sudden motion, as she snarls, now addressing him, “I am a soldier and I know the consequences. I will go. You cannot prevent me from going.”  
  
And he can’t, that’s the critical part, he’s incapacitated completely and is totally immobile - and because she has no comm, no one else can hear her side of the conversation, only Genji’s. They are all preoccupied in any case, even Lúcio, and so only Genji is there to shout at her to stop when she drops her gun, breathes out, and folds her hands behind her head in the air as she steps out of cover.  
  
Reaper stops firing immediately upon seeing her. After a few moments, he starts to laugh, and that draws McCree’s, Lúcio’s, Reinhardt’s, even Hanzo’s attention to her, and whatever McCree and Lúcio might have yelled at her is lost when Reaper is suddenly _right next to her_ and a cold, ghostly arm snatches her around the middle. She doesn’t even have time to scream before he’s moving, using her as a human shield, correctly guessing that no one would dare fire in the happenstance that they shot her instead.  
  
Hana’s so tired of fighting. D.Va knows that fighting is pointless. So she doesn’t, and Bastion makes another distressed trill, much like the one it made before, as she’s carried out. Ganymede, on its head, imitates him, and that’s the last thing D.Va hears before she’s out of the throne room, Reaper’s hand taps her temple, and she’s out like a light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sure y'all saw this turn of events coming from miles away. if you didn't - surprise!
> 
> i wonder what widowmaker's up to. :3c
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- reaper, for all he dresses like an idiot, is always three steps ahead of you. always. chess, strike ops, life - three steps ahead, if not more, all the time. he's a brilliant tactician, an excellent actor, and an incredible manipulator. you can't possibly hope to beat him at mind games; if you do, he's only letting you win (and he'll make that fact very clear). hell, you can't possibly hope to beat him at your _own_ game.  
>  \- this is not necessarily true back when he was just gabe the super-soldier ("just" lmfao)  
> \- widowmaker is definitely the muscle of talon. she never misses a shot, after all, and reaper's aim is _terrible_ unless he's up close and personal.  
>  \- hanzo, despite all odds, is actually a very smooth conversationalist: he had to learn how to be silver-tongued back in the yakuza, in order to delight potential allies and lull enemies into a false sense of security. catch him flat-footed, however, and he will become a stoic, monosyllabic mess.  
> \- even better: if you put genji and hanzo together in a room full of people, they will collectively charm everyone inside of it within a matter of minutes (provided they aren't arguing, though they are also versed in fake-arguing to act as a distraction (à la 'the road to el dorado')).  
> \- even even better: if you put zenyatta in there too, the entire room will willingly, attentively listen when zenyatta delivers a sermon.  
> \- bastion once composed an entire song using every single beeping noise it could make. lúcio loved it so much that he and bastion collaborated on a little music video spoof where he teaches bastion to beatbox and then the video just snowballs into hilarious, fun chaos from there. it becomes so popular they make it a weekly installment and bastion can't actually say it to lúcio but it loves doing those videos so much  
> \- hana gets ana an assassin's creed coat at some point, completely with the hood, and ana falls completely in love with it and goes on to play the rest of the assassin's creed games (she gets every single one of her kills by throwing knives and getting headshots, just because she can)  
> \- mercy's medbay is organized down to a science. it's slightly terrifying: you can ask for anything and she will tell you exactly where it is, and when you open a drawer, everything is sorted and perfect and you find the thing you need instantly.  
> \- additionally, symmetra loves to go to the medbay when she's anxious. all of the patterns and orderly nature of the place help her calm down.  
> \- tracer once got winston custom-made sandals. mccree later got him custom-made socks. winston, always a trooper, wore sandals with socks one day and even allowed tracer to vine it, because he's just that nice of a guy.  
> \- someone once started a joke by saying 'so reinhardt walks into a bar' and reinhardt, passing by, added to it by saying 'and hits his head on the doorframe while he goes in' and the person who first made the joke was too scared to finish it. to this day, reinhardt wonders what the punchline is  
> \- so do i, actually. if all y'all got any ideas, let me know!  
> \- torbjörn dabbed once. no one knows how tracer managed to vine it, but he's never dabbed again. tracer has begged him, but no dice  
> \- 76 writes in a beautiful print-cursive fusion and had a really awesome signature back when he was strike commander morrison. it's been a little bittersweet for him every time he uses it to sign off on medical documents


	56. OPERATION: LOST HEROES (part 4 of 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a debrief. Hana isn't there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a glorious day today!

“So, to recap -

“Lena flew Reinhardt to Eichenwalde so he could pay respects to Commander Von Adler, with Genji accompanying him as an extra precaution.”

Winston’s voice is calm and collected, a stark contrast to the rest of the figures huddled about in the dim room. 76 finds the entire situation painfully reminiscent of an earlier time and has to let his mind brush over the memories; normally he would indulge them, just the tiniest bit, to remember, to lay to rest, but now isn’t the time.

“This is correct,” Reinhardt says with a subdued nod. “I have been making the pilgrimage for many years now.”

Winston grimaces. “And as such, you weren’t expecting anything out of the ordinary.”

“There have never been any problems before,” Reinhardt confirms. “I did not bring my armor or weapons out of respect. Von Adler would not have wanted to be remembered just for his deeds in war.”

“Right.” Winston pushes his glasses further up his nose and looks back down at the datapad in his hand. “This moment also served as ideal for Hanzo and Genji to meet up on neutral ground.”

“Yes,” Genji says. “I merely expected a brief visit and for us to go our separate ways afterwards.” He hesitates, briefly, likely pondering over his choice of words as he says, “Circumstances had other ideas, however.”

No one looks at 76. He resists the urge to snort and doesn’t react as Winston clears his throat.

“Very well. On your way to the throne room, you and Genji encountered an omnic - specifically an SST Laboratories Siege Automaton, edition E54.” Bastion makes a whirring sound as Genji and Reinhardt nod; those who are old enough to remember the Omnic Crisis, which is to say everyone in the room, eye it with varying degrees of distrust, but otherwise don’t say anything. “Genji, instead of attacking it, you decided to communicate with it, even though it opened fire on you as soon as you stepped into its line of sight.”

“I was curious,” Genji says. He doesn’t sound defensive; he mostly sounds exhausted, and he has every right to be, considering his condition. “A Bastion unit hasn’t been seen since the end of the Omnic Crisis. There is a reason this one has survived, and I wanted to know why.”

“However,” Winston says, with a bit of a scolding edge, “You were not able to talk it down.”

“I was not,” Genji acquiesces and, again, he doesn’t sound neither defensive nor guilty. “In the end, Bastion pinned us down in the entry hall and Reinhardt had sustained serious injuries. As a result, I called for backup.”

“And in doing so, you did not go through main channels, but rather a frequency that has since been abandoned.” The name Blackwatch goes unsaid, though Winston’s disapproval rings clearly through his words. “Through this frequency, you contacted Jesse and Lena, who agreed to help you get past the omnic and enter the throne room itself.”

“Yes,” Lena says, hunched in on herself. Her expression is haunted; she doesn’t look up from the table. “I grabbed Lúcio to be as our medic and, since Reinhardt didn’t have his armor, I pulled D.Va out to act as our tank.”

76 says nothing. His arms are tightly folded across his chest as he leans back in his chair, posture stiff and tight and furious. His fingers clench at the mention of Hana’s name, making an audible scratch against fabric that makes Lena flinch. _Good_ , he thinks viciously, as Winston continues on.

“Once Lúcio and D.Va arrived at the hangar, all four of you went to Eichenwalde. At this point in time, it was evening, a bit before oh-six-hundred hours, correct?”

“Yep,” Lúcio says. It comes out completely flat.

“Lena’s party arrived at Eichenwalde itself shortly thereafter, entering through a side entrance and making your way to Genji and Reinhardt’s location using D.Va’s hub as guidance. When you arrived, Lúcio was able to heal most of Reinhardt’s injuries while you, Genji, attempted to further communicate with Basiton.”

“It had calmed down after I had been talking to it for quite some time,” Genji says. “A little bit more than an hour, in fact. I approached it with my weapons down to show I meant no harm while transmitting data packets asking about its concern and the reasons it was shooting us.”

“And instead, it attacked you,” Winston says. Bastion lets out a low, apologetic beep.

“The others’ appearance startled it,” Genji says, and, again, Bastion echoes the words with a swooping bwoop sound, starting high and reaching down the octave. 76 picks out the note pitches almost absently. “I immediately shut down upon sustaining that much damage in that short a period of time.”

Winston sighs. Genji shrugs, then winces at the motion, then winces at that motion and finally stops moving and causing himself unintentional pain. “After you were rendered unconscious, Lena, D.Va and Jesse went out to drag you to safety. This was done mostly by D.Va and Jesse, with D.Va’s mech shielding Jesse as you brought Genji to cover.”

“Right,” Jesse says, and for once the drawl is at a minimum and he’s leaning forward on the table, completely engaged. His eyes are shadowed and 76 can see telltale signs of a migraine just by the way he holds himself, but right now it seems Jesse is too worked up to care. “Her defense matrix saved our asses.”

“Lena, you also helped carry Genji to cover.”

“It was faster,” Lena says. “I - I wasn’t really thinking about anything except keeping Genji safe. I should have been more worried about her.”

“Perhaps,” Winston says sans inflection. “In any case, this left D.Va to fend for herself, which consequently resulted in her mech exploding and leaving her vulnerable to Bastion’s attacks.”

76 lets out a low rumble at that, almost inaudible, and clenches his hands into fists. Jesse hears it and ducks his head, while Lúcio stares blankly at the wall across from his seat; Lena has yet to look up from the table, and Genji, of course, is unreadable, even when injured. Reinhardt is too far away to pick up on it, but he still shoots 76 an apologetic glance.

“Yes,” Jesse says after a moment. _Taking one for the team,_ 76 thinks. “That’s what happened.”

Winston doesn’t say anything for a few moments - a silent chastisement, one that 76 itches to fill with words but doesn’t - before the gorilla continues on. “D.Va took cover behind her mech as Jesse, Lena and Lúcio worked out a plan to distract Bastion so she could get back to the main group. However, before you could execute the plan, D.Va left the cover of her mech for a pillar a few meters away, during a break in Bastion’s gunfire.” A few nods, with Jesse in particular pulling his hat further down to hide his face, and Winston glances over at Bastion. “In a panic, Bastion shifted to tank mode and began firing upon her.”

Bastion doesn’t make a sound, just aims its blue headlight at Winston and holds completely still. The bird on its head copies the omnic almost exactly; it’s a little eerie to see, and it reminds 76 a little too much of the old days.

“However, before Bastion could land a hit on D.Va directly, this bird landed on her shoulder,” Winston says, gesturing to the little creature on Bastion’s head, who now lets out a single chirp. Its head moves in sudden bursts of motion as it briefly flaps its wings, and even Winston can’t help a tiny smile at its actions as he goes on, “Bastion had been looking for this bird and immediately calmed down when it came into sight.”

“Ganymede,” Genji amends, and then, “Yes.”

“From there, Bastion was cooperative and non-violent, allowing Reinhardt to pay respects as he had intended to in the first place.” Winston gazes over at Bastion again for a few moments, who lets out an acknowledging boop; it knows its place and it knows not to cause trouble. 76 is still uneasy, but every single person in this room is armed and more than ready to take a rogue Siege Automaton down. “However, while he was doing this, Talon was steadily approaching Eichenwalde itself.”

“Yes,” Hanzo says, speaking up for the first time. His voice is clipped, precise, deliberate; his expression is somber and otherwise unreadable. “I had been closing in on Eichenwalde from the north when the one you call Reaper found me. He managed to injure me with a shot before I escaped. By the time I arrived, Talon was right on my heels.”

“Right,” Winston says. “At this point, you, Genji, D.Va, Jesse, Lúcio and Reinhardt pulled back into the throne room and took up a defensive position. Lena, meanwhile, took off to get the plane in order to facilitate pickup; however, she was delayed, and Reaper teleported directly into the throne room itself in order to flush all of you out.”

“I took up a perch at the door’s entrance to prevent Talon agents from getting in,” Hanzo says. “McCree provided cover from Reaper once the ghost entered.”

“We were able to keep all agents from enterin’ for a few minutes before we were forced to move,” Jesse says.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Winston says with a brief hesitation, “But, Hanzo - I understand that you might not want to be here. Can we trust you to help us?”

“He’s a clever fella and a good shot,” Jesse says before Hanzo speak. “Might all be hangin’ if not for him.”

“I will not let you down,” Hanzo says, after flashing Jesse a fleeting, startled look at the commendation, though everyone who knows Jesse is not surprised. 76 trusts the kid’s judgment when it comes to these things, if he’s being honest; the cowboy is rarely wrong about others’ intentions, a skill that had been further honed under both Gabriel and Ana’s tutelage.

“Genji, you won’t have a problem with this?” Winston says.

“We have discussed the incident at length,” Genji replies, voice unflappable and calm. “You can trust us to cooperate.”

“Indeed,” Hanzo agrees.

“Very well,” the gorilla says with a nod, tabling the point for now. There’s no time to pursue it, in any case, and Winston resumes the debrief. “I haven’t gotten individual statements from all of you about what exactly happened in the throne room, but from I understand, it was… not at all organized. If one of you could please clarify - ”

“ - Bastion took up position in the southeast corner of the room, across from the door, and pinned Reaper in place,” Genji cuts in before anyone else, which 76 can appreciate; it’s a sign that Genji, too, is itching to go find Hana. “I was incapacitated, and D.Va pulled me behind cover so Reaper could not attack me.”

“I managed to salvage Von Adler’s hammer and barrier shield from his remains,” Reinhardt says, and the shame and fury in his voice could take down mountains. “From there, I shielded Bastion and Lúcio from harm.”

“That’s when I contacted main base,” Lúcio adds listlessly. “You heard what happened after.”

There’s a heavy silence. Winston sighs deeply before breaking it. “D.Va figured out that Reaper was after her, so she - ”

“She would not listen,” Genji interjects, and he sounds extremely frustrated, though his posture doesn’t change; he doesn’t so much as twitch, in fact, but his voice shakes despite its robotic quality as he mutters, “There was no guarantee that Reaper would not have shot her dead, and we could have survived for however long it took Lena to arrive - ”

“Widowmaker kept me occupied, love,” Lena says, eyes sliding slowly shut. “Couldn’t land even if I wanted to. Could’ve used the plane to shoot her up, but that risked collapsin’ the building on top of you. Couldn’t risk it.” She takes in a rattling breath, lets it out in one go, forcing her back straight. “Widow knew all the Thunderbird’s weak spots, kept shootin’ at them. One of you would have needed to take her out for us to be able to escape.”

“No one is blaming either of you,” Winston says wearily. “Whatever the case, it’s done and we have to move forward.”

“The more time we waste here, the more danger Hana’s in,” 76 says, speaking up at last. People have been watching him like he’s a ticking time bomb; they’re clearly not expecting him to be so soft-spoken, to sound so reasonable, even though he’s Jack and he understands why debriefings are important better than anyone. “Get on with it so we can go.”

“Right.” Winston nods, once, and looks at the datapad again. “After D.Va figured out that Reaper was after her, she willingly gave herself up. This stopped Talon’s attack and, once Reaper had secured her, Talon left. Afterwards, Lena flew all of you back here.” Winston sets the datapad down and stares at everyone at the table. “We all know this is a direct attack on Overwatch, but we also have to consider Reaper’s angle. Now that we know this is Gabriel - ”

“He’s trying to draw Jack out,” Jesse says, before 76 or anyone else can beat him to the punch.

“Which means he should stay behind,” Angela finishes. Before 76 can even open his mouth Angela goes on, “Now of course he won’t, so we’ll have to adjust for that, and quickly. Talon will stoop to any low to get an advantage.”

(No one even dares to breathes Amélie Lacroix’s name.)

“We don’t know where she is,” Winston points out. “We’ll have to determine that first. It’s my understanding that she lost her comm and she obviously doesn’t have her mech, so it will make things difficult.”

“If her mech’s destroyed, she’s got the trigger to reassemble it,” 76 says, thinking out loud. He knows Hana very well; when she’s about to self-destruct her mech, she always grabs the trigger mechanism first. Even in the happenstance that the mech did not self-destruct - that it simply gave out on her - he doubts she would fail to grab the trigger mechanism on her way out. “Can you track that?”

“Athena?” Winston says.

“It should have the same signature as her mech, especially if she is actively pressing the button,” Athena says. “If she manages to summon her mech at all, I will be able to pinpoint her location, as well. One moment.”

“In the meantime, we’ll split into three teams, with Lúcio, Zenyatta, Ana, and Mercy forming the bases,” Winston says. “We’ll want high mobility for the team that enters the base itself. - Jack, what do you think?”

76 starts at the mention of his name, glancing up when he sees everyone else turning their heads to look at him. He lets out an inaudible sigh through his nose as he points out, “I’m not in charge, Winston. I trust your judgment.”

“Forgive me for saying so, but I think you could contribute a lot to this plan, all things considered,” Winston says. “How many ops like this did you run? Tens? Hundreds?”

“Enough to know that I shouldn’t be in charge of an op wherein I will be very personally invested,” 76 replies evenly. There’s a collective holding of breath, a few winces here and there, as he leans back in his chair again, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

It’s a long few moments before Winston concedes the point and begins preliminary planning, in conjunction with Athena, other agents, and what little intelligence they know of. 76 doesn’t contribute - it’s not his place - but the lack of participation leaves him ample time to try and not to think too much about anything. It’s one thing to know that Talon has Hana; it’s quite another to know she gave herself up willingly in order to save her teammates.

More than anything else, the entire situation irks him: how could she have been South Korea’s top soldier if she has no sense of self-preservation? In the end, though, he knows it doesn’t matter what Hana is, used to be, will be, and he doesn’t care what it takes.

Reaper is as good as dead.

* * *

D.Va wakes up cold. So, so cold.

( _I’ll never be warm again._ )

She doesn’t know what to do now, as everything comes back to her in a rush; giving up, giving in, letting herself be taken away. She’s lying on something hard - eagle-spread. A quick tug at her wrists and ankles tells her she’s been strapped down. Fantastic.

( _They’re going to kill me._ )

She clenches her jaw. Nothing seems out of place… yet. There’s no numbness that indicates there’s pain that’s been taken away by drugs or something else. Her head hurts where Reaper hit her, but other than that, she seems to be in one piece - relatively uninjured at all.

( _I’m going to die._ )

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” D.Va mutters under her breath, a plan taking form in her mind. The trigger mechanism at her foot is a heavy weight, and she welcomes it as she opens her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end one operation, start up another! wonder what's going on in hana's corner of the world...
> 
> also my math homework is kicking my butt and it's terrible. time to go to office hours and ask, like, a million questions!
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- reaper loves soap operas. just. needless dramatic shows are his jam, dudes. he's always asking people to watch them with him so he can complain about the characters, but everyone in talon is far too terrified...  
> \- ... except widowmaker, who sometimes watches them with him. she prefers french tv shows that typically end with someone dying. murder mysteries are her favorite.  
> \- ana's depth perception was (and still is) a little wonky after losing her eye. sometimes she forgets to compensate for this, which means she can occasionally fail at catching things or she may stub her toe on a wall as she's walking around a corner. she's gotten used to it, but it's still disorienting.  
> \- (this goes for everyone else who also only has one eye, too.)  
> \- winston will never reveal to others how he manages to wire circuitry and make prototypes with his giant gorilla hands. he is the best at doing it out of everyone, and it is a trade secret that will go to his grave.  
> \- mercy, zenyatta, ana, and lúcio sometimes meet for tea and cookies and complain about how no one in overwatch takes care of themselves in battle and how no one appreciates that some of them just can't move as fast. symmetra occasionally joins in to try new teas, but typically she keeps her distance because she and lúcio still don't get along. (it helps that zenyatta is there, but there's only so much he can do to mitigate arguments.)  
> \- genji and hanzo are insufferable separately but actually very manageable and friendly together - once they settle their differences, that is. mostly because they gossip to each other in japanese about how awful/annoying/weird the person they're speaking with is.  
> \- reinhardt would definitely play put tracer on his shoulders and play chicken against hana in her mech with, like, mccree on top of it or something. it would be incredible and mercy would just sit there with her staff and be like 'why must i put up with this'  
> \- bastion patrols the hallways at night because it doesn't need to sleep, and because it feels bad for the trouble it gave overwatch. occasionally, zenyatta or genji join it just for kicks and giggles. they learned pretty quickly that bastion is not a good choice for pranking people, because sometimes those people will flip out really, really badly and dangerously (see: reinhardt)  
> \- torbjörn and 76 eventually reach an point in their renewed friendship wherein 76 will bring small stuff in to tinker with and chat with torb as he does the same. (small stuff can be anything from a refrigerator to one of his biotic fields.)  
> 


	57. OPERATION: RÉQUIEM POR LA PÉRDIDA (part 1 of 5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana and Reaper verbally spar. Overwatch prepares its assault. [tw: torture]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **trigger warning for psychological and implied physical torture**. if this is something you don't want to read, skip to the line break, which is a little past halfway down - seriously, do _not_ read what's above it - and continue on from there.
> 
> have an amazing day today!

D.Va’s not sure how long she’s been unconscious, as she flexes her fingers experimentally and tilts her head to look around. It’s only her arms and legs that have been strapped down, it seems, thick leather looped around her wrists and ankles as if a petite teenager like her had a chance of muscling her way out of it - amusing in a morbid way, she finds - and it’s with no small sense of trepidation that she realizes she’s in some kind of cell. Maybe an interrogation room.  
  
( _It’s a torture room_ , Hana corrects. Soft. Afraid.)  
  
It’s pristine and clinical; spotless. The walls are reflective; she would guess that they are one-way mirrors, and it’s with some difficulty that she locates what is probably the door, just a few indents in the sheer walls. The ceiling is a stark, painful white, and though she can’t see the floor, she’s willing to guess that it’s the same color. A little dip in one corner of the room suggests the presence of cameras which, really, is just her luck. All in all, it’s barren. She would have guessed this was some kind of examination room in a hospital wing if not for the lack of medical things in the room.  
  
“This sucks,” she says out loud. Her voice rings out in the small space, which strikes her as odd and eerie all at once.  
  
Still, hearing her own voice echoing in her ears helps reorient herself with her current situation. As of right now, she’s essentially doomed herself to a terrible fate - a sacrifice to save the rest of her team, something that she never would have thought she’d have the courage to do.  
  
( _Heroic_ , Hana thinks, almost wistful. _At what cost?_ )  
  
D.Va can only hope her teammates made it out safely because of this; right now she’s fighting back a panic attack, one that she can feel in the prickling in her throat, and fear alone is threatening to make her shake. She has to focus, though, focus in and focus deeply, and so she stops thinking about the _what-ifs_ and instead focuses on the _whys_. In the end her thoughts turn and swirl and repeat themselves and she settles on a single question: _why_ was Reaper so intent on capturing her, and _why_ only her?  
  
(Several possibilities spill out in Hana’s mind. Politically, this is scandalous; if a famous mech operator such as herself was known to be working with Talon, South Korea’s MEKA program and, possibly, the entire government would be put under scrutiny, leaving them wide open for an attack by the omnic in the sea. Hana somehow doubts that she could resist working under Talon if she tried; not much is known about the shadowy organization, but, considering her current predicament, she’s willing to bet whatever is going to happen to her won’t be pretty.)  
  
“They could have taken Lúcio if they really wanted to make an impact,” D.Va mutters with a slight shake of her head. “He is more of a global influence than I am.”  
  
( _Perhaps it’s a direct attack on Overwatch itself_ , Hana considers. _If an Overwatch agent was shown clearly changing sides, then -_ )  
  
“Tracer would have been a more high-priority target,” D.Va points out. “She is the most well-known agent out of all of us. If she joined Talon, there would be a much bigger reaction.”  
  
( _Returning to politics, then_ , Hana thinks. The effects would be drastic no matter _who_ Talom picked. The U.N. would react harshly the moment Overwatch stepped out of line; Hana reasons that even if she’s the one who is seen in Talon’s company, working for them willingly or not, it would qualify as a problem. The U.N. wouldn’t trust Overwatch at all if they could lose an agent just like that - more importantly, if they learned that Overwatch lost an agent because a few members went on an unsanctioned mission, they might shut down the organization completely. Not to mention that if the public hears about any of this, Winston can kiss the newly-recalled Overwatch goodbye.)  
  
“So there is one reason,” D.Va says, shutting her eyes again. The ceiling’s become too painful to look at. “But that cannot be the only one.”  
  
( _It’s rather obvious that this is a plot to draw 76 out, considering their feud,_ Hana thinks. _Why else would I have been chosen, when so many others would have a larger effect on worldwide affairs?_ )  
  
“Surely he is not that petty,” D.Va scoffs at no one in particular, furrowing her brow.  
  
(Hana doesn’t know the depth of the infighting that took place in the original Overwatch, but considering how little 76 spoke of it, it’s probably safe to assume it was kind of a Big Deal.)  
  
“Even so,” D.Va says. “That cannot be the only thing.”  
  
( _I doubt that it is_ , Hana thinks. _Talon’s goals generally seem to be eliminating all of Overwatch agents and, it seems, creating chaos by eliminating all possibilities of positive omnic relations. Reaper is one of Talon’s most prominent agents, so what could he gain by placing me here?_ )  
  
“Drawing Overwatch out,” D.Va murmurs, now barely moving her lips. “Killing them, you think?”  
  
(Hana reasons that it might have something to do with simply creating chaos. Talon is a terrorist organization and no one yet knows what their higher purpose is. Eliminating a MEKA soldier would certainly make waves and show that Talon is ruthless _\- I really don’t want to think about that -_ )  
  
“If they kill me, then they will likely go on and kill everyone else, too.”  
  
(Which would accomplish their goal of eliminating Overwatch, Hana figures. Actually killing them is probably going to be harder than just drawing them into a building to trap them or ambush them, though. Overwatch is full of very capable people; she saw that in Rio de Janeiro. Though… its members have yet to go on a sanctioned mission that didn’t involve extracting a potential team member and, if nothing else, the world knows about them yet to have much of an opinion. Even if they were all eliminated, it wouldn’t bring Talon much notoriety; the U.N. would cover it up. _Though, of course,_ she adds, _Talon would have a much better chance at wreaking havoc without us around, which is likely their goal._ )  
  
“What are the odds that Overwatch will find me here?” D.Va points out, blowing out a puff of air to move a strand of hair away from her nose. “I do not have a comm, I do not have my mech. My only chance is whether the mech - ” she cuts herself off, because who knows how much she’s being monitored, and finishes in faux-gloom, “Well, I guess there is no chance at all, then.”  
  
(Hana presses her foot gently downwards, curving her toes until she presses the button on the trigger mechanism. She can feel the click in the bone of her heel; now it’s just a matter of waiting and hoping.)  
  
“Wonder how long I have to talk to myself before someone comes and talks at me instead,” D.Va mutters, testing the leather binding her again. No dice, of course, and not even her smooth bodysuit allows her to slip free.  
  
( _Do you think it’s going to hurt?_ )  
  
“Probably,” D.Va mutters, and then she deadpans at nothing, “Could I not at least get a TV in here? Is solitary confinement not illegal or something?”  
  
( _I hardly think they care about legalities here._ )  
  
“Ugh, not the point,” D.Va says, just as her ears pick up on what sounds like a whisper of a breeze and she opens her eyes - and then she yelps in alarm when Reaper himself appears without warning in her field of vision, ghostly mask directly above her. She can feel herself tense up as he tilts his head, baring her teeth in a silent snarl as he appraises her; the tight coil in her gut only curls more when he laughs, seemingly amused.  
  
( _He’s going to hurt me -_ )  
  
“Having fun talking to yourself?” he asks after a moment, voice low and rasping and grating against her ears. It takes everything in her not to shudder.  
  
“Immensely,” D.Va retorts.  
  
( _Don’t antagonize him,_ Hana thinks, voice small, _he’s going to hurt me -_ )  
  
“Never took you for that type,” Reaper chuckles, sweeping around her. It’s a struggle to follow him around the room given her lack of mobility, but, eyes narrowed, D.Va does her best. “Then again, you do stream and talk to yourself constantly, so I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”  
  
“ _Dahk chuh_ ,” she snaps.  
  
“You know I don’t speak Korean, _niña_ ,” Reaper says, still sidestepping her prone form. Circling her, like a vulture, almost, and the unease grows.  
  
“And I do not speak edgelord, so I think we are even,” D.Va says coldly. There’s a slight hiccup in just one of his strides before he continues on - ha, she totally got him there, score - and D.Va sticks her tongue out at him as he goes, feeling utterly exposed and totally alone and she hates it.  
  
( _Stop_ _it_ , Hana begs, _stop it, stop it -_ )  
  
“You really are Jack’s protégé,” Reaper says after a moment, and then stops moving abruptly and leans in close to her face. The sudden stillness in his posture eerie and unnatural, and if she could see his face, she’s sure he would be leering at her. “I have to ask - what exactly did you expect to gain by coming here?”  
  
“Why should I bother answering?” D.Va snaps. She jerks her head up in an attempt to hit his forehead with hers, but he moves away with a single languid motion. _Jerk_. “It is not like I came here willingly, and it is not like it will matter in the end.”  
  
“You tell me, Hana Song,” Reaper replies, terribly, awfully smug, and D.Va bites her tongue down hard, preventing herself from screaming at him. He of all people shouldn’t be allowed to say her name. “You have two options here, _niña_ : you cooperate and work for us, and you get everything you could want. Or - ”  
  
“ - or I do not cooperate and you hurt me until I do, or you hurt me until I think I want to,” D.Va finishes. Her eyes narrow to slits. “I am not an idiot like you, _meecheenom_.”  
  
“Mm. Brave words, _niña_.” He tilts his head at her again, owlishly. still circling her. Prowling. She wants to kick him, but the binding is too tight. “I will rephrase. How about - some information on your little group? Your cooperation in exchange for your life.”  
  
“ _Jiral_ ,” D.Va says through gritted teeth.  
  
“Anything will do,” Reaper goes on as if she’d said nothing, hands sweeping behind his back. Something about him is just - off, D.Va can see it in the wisps leaking out from underneath his mask, black and dark and disgusting just like him. “The names of your teammates, perhaps? Or maybe a word about their respective skills.” His voice is terribly casual when he adds, “A tidbit about dear old Jack, hm?”  
  
“ _Toejora_ ,” D.Va snarls.  
  
He pauses at that. One of his gloved hands touches her throat, and she shudders when his index finger stops at her pulse. The fear, repressed, hidden, begins to snake its way upwards in her dry throat, her constricted lungs, her wide eyes, even as she glares at him.  
  
“You are too much like Jesse for my liking,” Reaper says at last, voice dangerously soft; “He never knew when to quit while he was ahead, either.”  
  
He lets that float in the silence for a while.

D.Va swallows hard and keeps quiet, unwilling to let him goad her into speaking - but then he laughs, and she can hear his smile as he sing-songs, “ _Such_ a pity.”  
  
( _I can’t do this - not now, not -_ )  
  
“Yes, you can,” D.Va hisses, and then Reaper’s seized onto one of her hands. Even through her gloves, she can feel the cold wrongness of it, cold, sharp, unnatural, even though his grip is relatively gentle; then he pulls her glove off and takes out a paring knife, and suddenly everything is ten times, a hundred times, so much worse as he holds the blade to her pinky fingernail.  
  
“Perhaps this will help you change your mind,” he says, “Just one little bit about Overwatch and it will end,” and D.Va clamps her teeth down hard into her lower lip, eyes slamming shut, as Hana begins to scream.

* * *

“Winston,” Athena says, “Agent Song’s mech is in motion. It seems 76’s assertion was correct.”  
  
76 doesn’t even realize he’s on his feet until he notices everyone else is too, grouped up behind him as they shove their way out of the conference room. People peel off in different directions in the hallway - some intent on their quarters to grab their weapons and armor, others already suited up and making a beeline straight for the hangar - and 76 is grateful that he had been in the practice range when the meeting had been called; his rifle is safely swung over his back, and so, along with Jesse, Lena, Hanzo and, surprisingly, Genji, he quickly makes his way towards where the Thunderbird waits.  
  
“I am tracking her mech,” Athena says over the pitter-patter of feet. Her voice is carefully even, almost as if she is merely listing facts and is not at all concerned with Hana’s well-being. “It is traveling fairly slowly, perhaps one-third the speed of a commercial aeroplane; Agent Oxton, you should be able to catch up and track it visually from the cockpit of the Thunderbird with ease.”  
  
“Roger that, Athena,” Lena says, grim and focused. “But we’ll be taking the Orca this time around. Only way to fit everyone in.”  
  
“I will pass on the message,” Athena says, and, after a thoughtful hum, “Regardless, you will be able to keep pace. It would do you well to take precautions about visibility; the evening skies are somewhat cloudy but are unfortunately relatively clear otherwise.”  
  
“Noted. Thanks, love,” Lena says, bursting out of the building with everyone else on her heels. The twilit air is cool to the touch, but the wind is vicious and curling; fitting, 76 thinks to himself, zipping up the last quarter of his jacket and rolling his shoulders until the bones cracked in response, and then it’s a matter of hurrying up and waiting for everyone else to arrive in the hangar. He’s shifting his weight the entire time, eager to get going, knowing full well that Hana’s mech only traveled so fast and that they would catch up easily, but -  
  
it’s almost hysterical, really. He hasn’t gotten this worked up about another person in - well, since a lifetime ago. Since Gabriel himself, perhaps. It would be horribly, amusingly ironic, if 76 wasn’t so angry, if 76 wasn’t ready to kill Reaper (again?) with his own bare hands. He knows attacking him through loved ones is a tried-and-true Blackwatch tactic, but it’s never happened to him personally and it’s… the fact it’s being done to  _him_ squelches any chance that Gabriel is still in Reaper somewhere. It’s probably for the best that he think that way, at the very least (but even that isn’t enough to squash the tiny little voice in his head that maybe he shouldn’t give up on him, not yet).  
  
“Genji, you sure you should be out and about?” Jesse asks, glancing over at where the cyborg is swaying on one leg, leaning heavily on his brother’s shoulder.  
  
“You think I would do nothing?” Genji says. There’s a bite to his words that speaks volumes. “I will not be able to do as much damage as I could, but Reyes should not think for a second that I will let him capture Hana and do nothing to stop it.”  
  
“I will watch out for him,” Hanzo says, voice almost as sharp as his brother's. He doesn’t look particularly at ease; he is tense, tight and taut even as he supports Genji’s weight. “Do not underestimate us, cowman.”  
  
“’Course you’re not incompetent, we all saw that in Germany,” Jesse drawls, and 76 knows he should probably step in because that is the tone Jesse takes when he’s about to start an argument, “But you gotta forgive me for being just a little doubtful. I mean, it ain’t like you _killed_ our friend or anythin’.”  
  
_And there it is_ , 76 thinks with an audible, loud sigh. It draws everyone’s attention, but it doesn’t stop Genji from snapping, “Jesse, that was wholly unnecessary,” while Hanzo’s face schools itself into perfect neutrality.  
  
“Hmph,” Lena says, turning to look over her shoulder from where she sits in the cockpit. “If you say so, Genj.”  
  
“I do,” Genji says, and it’s clear he’s about to say more, but Hanzo interrupts him with low, fast-paced Japanese. Genji breaks off to respond in kind, hot and angry, and then the other Overwatch members start trickling in and wherever the exchange might have gone is lost as everyone piles into the Orca. Expressions are grim and serious; Ana returns 76’s glance with a determined nod, and even Reinhardt doesn’t say a word as Tracer guides the plane out and upwards.  
  
“All right, everyone,” Winston says, voice heavy. Behind him, Symmetra mouths something silently, hands moving quickly and rapidly and gracefully as blue wireframes take shape between her palms; practicing, double-checking, preparing the teleporter. “Let’s make this quick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brief summary for what happened if you skipped the first part: d.va and hana act as separate entities, with d.va in control and keeping hana from falling apart. together, the two discuss reaper's possible motives; whether they are correct or not remains to be seen. reaper arrives later on and asks hana first for her cooperation, then for information on overwatch. she refuses and reaper, never one to miss an opportunity, moves on to actual interrogation.
> 
>  **korean**  
>  as always, correct me if i'm wrong!!  
>  _dahk chuh_ \- shut up  
>  _meecheenom_ \- crazy bastard  
>  _jiral_ \- bullshit  
>  _toejara_ \- go to hell
> 
>  **spanish**  
>  _niña_ \- child (f.)
> 
> somehow hana is suffering more and i didn't want this (i am still in shock that i. am writing a nineteen year old. getting fucking _tortured_. if there's any reason why i should be a pacifist, i think this is it) and neither did any of you but also. ALSO. finally a bit more description of just how much hana disassociates when shit hits the fan. also, reaper's asshole motivations for harming hana in the first place - complicated. extremely well thought out, but complicated. try to guess, i dare you. (hint: it has something to do with location.)
> 
> that being said, next chapter hana's badassery will shine through once again, so worry, but then worry not.
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- what makes reaper so formidable is that he is extremely talented at discerning emotional responses - that is, when people will act illogically and do something unforeseen that might throw a wrench in his plans. he can't counter everything, of course, but you can bet he's not going to be caught completely flat-footed if something unpredictable happens.  
> \- widowmaker, due to her extremely slow metabolism, cannot be on the field for extended periods of time; her heart simply can't pump blood fast enough to get all the oxygen around her body. as such, a dedicated medical team has to constantly monitor her condition each time she reports in (courtesy [El103](http://archiveofourown.org/users/El103/pseuds/El103))  
> \- ana and hanzo meet up every now and then in a practice range to attempt to out-snipe each other. so far, ana is winning by quite a bit, but hanzo is slowly catching up  
> \- mercy will willingly throw herself into danger if it will protect the team, i.e. she's the type of soldier that would curl up over a live grenade _while knowing_ that if she dies, overwatch will lose an extremely important asset. she really can't help it; it's just what she does.  
>  \- genji didn't wear clothes around base until people started cracking innumerable jokes about how he's streaking all the time; then he accompanied hana while she went shopping and they picked out a bunch of new outfits for him. (and also zenyatta, who starts wearing the oversized pink hoodie with hearts they'd give him almost every day.)  
> \- symmetra draws her own blueprints and diagrams, usually. it's extremely important that every blueprint is the same size, the same color, and drawn in white pencil. if lúcio is feeling particularly petty that day, he switches out a pencil for silver, mostly just to see her mechanically go through her desk and then the entire workshop to locate the white pencil, which he hides somewhere in there.  
> \- this eventually becomes a game of sorts between the two of them, though it doesn't become friendly until much later on  
> \- hana's snapchat is amazing, especially once she gets the okay to tell people she's in overwatch. people always ask her if everything that happens at base is staged, and each time she gets to gleefully answer that no, none of it is  
> \- bastion is an excellent baking assistant. you can just kind of put stuff on it or have it hold things and it'll just sit there. when there're no cooling racks, symmetra just stacks trays of cookies on it instead and it just kinda hums to itself while it watches  
> \- tracer and mccree are very similar, in terms of mindset, ethics, and life philosophy; asking the opinion of one will (almost always) accurately reflect the opinion of the other. this was true even while they were in blackwatch, which meant 76 often would just ask one of them about their opinion on something and assume the other thought the same.  
> \- the shit reinhardt goes through, you guys. seriously. our old man knight needs a break.  
> \- at some point, winston discovers that torbjörn has been collecting blueprints of seige automatons and quietly informs a select few people to keep an eye on bastion at all times and not to let it wander around alone  
> 


	58. OPERATION: RÉQUIEM POR LA PÉRDIDA (part 2 of 5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana's mech arrives with fanfare. 76 angsts a bit. [tw: implied torture]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please be safe and note that there are **implications of torture** , though it won't be touched upon at all. nevertheless, if even the suggestion of it makes you queasy, press [ctrl+f] on pc or [command ⌘+f] on mac and search for the line "There’s a crash in the distance, as if on cue."
> 
> as always, have a stupendous day today!

“I’m impressed. Those twice your age would have made at least one little sound by now.”  
  
“ _Yut-mugguh_ ,” D.Va spits. Her whole body is tilted as far away from him as it can get, chest angled up and away and her shoulders straining against the strap as he clamps her hand in place. The pain is indescribable and consuming and dark and red and furious, but D.Va merely grits her teeth and keeps it all in.  
  
(Hana has yet to stop screaming.)  
  
“Well, that was just one hand, I suppose,” Reaper says idly, rising to his full stature. He’s tall, his voice chilling and cold and so unnatural and D.Va collapses flat on the table, chest heaving with exertion and agony and effort, as he sneers, “The other is next, you know.”  
  
“ _Gguh-juh_ ,” D.Va rasps, sucking in on her next breath. There’s sweat trickling down her forehead, uncomfortably cold and clammy, and she doesn’t have the courage to look at her mangled hand. “You - you will _not_ break me.”  
  
“Oh?” Reaper says, absently flipping the tiny little knife in his hand. It’s so sharp and it flashes in the light and it’s streaked with crimson. “Brave words, _niña_.”  
  
And even though her hands are bleeding, even though she’s tied down, even though she stumbles through the lonely macabre hills of her mind - “ _Who_ ,” D.Va hisses, breaths escaping in harsh gasps, “ _Are you calling a child_?”  
  
There’s a crash in the distance, as if on cue. Reaper stills, one hand rising up slightly as if to touch the side of his head - the motion so familiar and distinct in some way, and she squints at him a bit before it hits her: 76 does the same thing when he’s listening to a comm and _that really is Gabriel Reyes, isn’t it?_ Hana thinks through hot, blinding pain. D.Va can only grimace in response, because if he’s listening to his comm, then that means the crash was something important, that -  
  
(There’s a faint spark of hope in Hana’s entire being - _maybe, just maybe -_ )  
  
D.Va screams when something very big and very pink smashes through the ceiling, sending plaster and what looks like crumbled tile to the floor with clatters and thunks, almost like an industrial hailstorm. She doesn’t get hit, fortunately, as her mech hums quietly just a bit to her left with a hole in the ceiling just above it, and it’s with no small sense of exasperated annoyance that she sees Reaper, on her right, had avoided it entirely. He’s staring at her MEKA, she thinks, one hand still half-raised, and D.Va is both simultaneously ecstatic that the mechanism actually worked and pissed the fuck off because she can’t do anything when she’s tied up - and then she realizes Reaper is laughing. It sounds like a small animal being strangled to death. (It’s deplorable that she actually knows what that sounds like.)  
  
“Seems you’ve not so stupid after all,” Reaper says once he's regained his composure, voice rasping and deep and icy. “How fortunate for you.”  
  
“And you are going to tell me why it is not,” D.Va croaks, coughing slightly. The dust has just begun to settle from the hole in the ceiling and some of it is going into her mouth and nose.  
  
“Now why would I do that?” Reaper drawls, and D.Va fights back a full-body shudder; it has the exact same inflection as McCree’s, but it’s not right at all, glacial and gross and oily. “After all, it seems Overwatch has been drawn out.”  
  
Her heart swells at the words - they’re _here_ , they didn’t leave her behind and it’s such a weight off of her shoulders, even as she lies there bloodied and exhausted and Hana is desperately held together by the strength of D.Va’s will because she won’t die here, not if 76 -  
  
“I suppose you’ll be pleased to know that you have just doomed the entirety of your pitiful team, Hana Song.”  
  
Any relief she had turns to ice and she stills, eyes wide as she watches Reaper sweep around her and stop in front of her mech, contemplative, glancing upwards to see where it had come from and clicking his tongue. It sounds distinctly humanlike; the rest of his words do not.  
  
“This… is problematic. _Sombra, inicia la operación blanca. Ellos han llegado temprano_.” D.Va can’t hear the response, but she tenses up automatically when the ghost turns to her, reaching down to his waist and drawing out two shotguns from literally out of nowhere - _oh god_ , Hana thinks - but all he says is “be a dear and don’t move” before he’s a nearly-formless drift of black wispy cloud phasing through the wall, shotguns in hand.  
  
(It’s something out a nightmare; Hana will remember the soft, stilted brush of black coldness against her cheek for as long as she lives.)  
  
Everything come back in a rush as soon as the last traces of cloudy, dark wispiness is gone - emotions, mostly, irateness and despair and helplessness and fear, crushing her larynx, so strong and fast D.Va almost chokes, and then she shuts her eyes tightly and carefully twitches the fingers of her injured hand. Everything reacts as they are supposed to, though it burns like fire, and she gingerly attempts to pull her hand through the straps, just once, to no avail. Well, she hadn’t been expecting much in the first place, but - jerking her other hand doesn’t do anything either, and in the end she huffs to herself and continues to lay flat on the stupid table.  
  
( _At least he did not break my fingers_ , Hana says softly.)  
  
“What is the point if I cannot even reach the MEKA?” D.Va says with a scowl, flexing her foot and trying to bend her knee in an attempt to escape. No such luck, of course; her feet are just as stuck as her hands. “I do not want to just sit here and be useless while that monster is out there.”  
  
( _If these were handcuffs, I could escape by dislocating my thumbs_ , Hana thinks. It’s shaky when she adds, putting on a brave face, _These are not handcuffs, but I could try -_ )  
  
“I need my thumbs to drive the mech, and I am not putting you through anything else,” D.Va snaps, glaring at the ceiling and then glaring at the hole. Her mech continues to hum, reassuring and damnably out of reach. “There has to be something I can do.”  
  
(Hana is silent for a few long moments.)  
  
“There must be,” D.Va mutters, turning her head to stare at the MEKA. It’s been a few years since her basic training; who knows how many shortcuts she’s forgotten. Each mech operator develops their own independent fighting style and tinkers with their mech as necessary; if there are any shortcuts she doesn’t remember, it’s very likely she’s written them out the coding anyway. _Shibal._  
  
( _Voice commands_ , Hana murmurs at last. _In Korean_. _Perhaps they still work_.)  
  
“I could try,” D.Va says, thinking fast. The last time she’d actually had voice commands was - years ago, back when she’d used it to activate her defense matrix without needing to press any buttons. She’d stopped doing that the moment she realized how useless it was to have people know what you were going to do. “But then what?”  
  
(... _it could shoot the ropes off?_ )  
  
“It would shoot my _hands_ off,” D.Va says.  
  
( _It is possible I could fight with it,_ Hana thinks. _Does the table I am on have wheels?_ )  
  
In response, D.Va breathes in and jerks her entire body hard to the left, towards her injured hand so she doesn’t pull on it any more than she has to. The table does not budge.  
  
( _The wheels might be locked,_ Hana says, though she sounds doubtful.)  
  
“I suppose,” D.Va says anyway, and then she sighs, and then she looks towards her mech and says in fast, fluent Korean, “ _Two steps forward._ ”  
  
Miraculously, the mech responds - how lovely it is to have voice-recognition software, she thinks dryly - and proceeds to take two steps forward. It hits the table due to the limited amount of space; the table doesn’t do much more than shake briefly, and then the mech is crowding over her and it is tantalizingly close but so, so far.  
  
( _I can’t believe that worked._ )  
  
“ _Turn right, ninety degrees_ ,” D.Va tries, and, once the mech has done so, she bites her lip, considers her options, and then decides, “ _Fire both fusion cannons for one second._ ”  
  
Overwhelming noise from her mech’s firearms, the sound of glass shattering, Hana screaming in D.Va’s ear - and then it stops, just like that, and the one-way mirror is now broken and reveals a bland hallway. Just in that short amount of gunfire, she’s managed to both break through the glass wall of her room and the next one over, which looks almost entirely the same save for the medical equipment she thought she had been lacking. A medbay of some kind, then; interesting that it also doubles as Talon’s interrogation rooms, and then she lets her head thunk back down onto the table and groans, long and loud.  
  
“Now what?” she asks.  
  
( _I did not get hurt from that, did I?_ Hana frets.)  
  
“No, the glass missed me.” A louder crash, as a shard of the mirror tips and falls to the floor. D.Va winces and wiggles her toes. “I’m fine.”  
  
( _Maybe you can activate the mech’s cameras?_ )  
  
“What for?”  
  
( _I do not know,_ Hana says.)  
  
“Might as well,” D.Va says, and then, in Korean, “ _Activate front-facing camera. Broadcast view to front screen_.” The MEKA doesn’t respond. D.Va lets out a frustrated huff, flopping back so she’s staring at the stupid ceiling again, and says, “Any other ideas?”  
  
( _I - maybe,_ Hana says. _You can orate responses to messages, right?_ )  
  
D.Va eyes widen and she looks to the pink mech again. “You think?”  
  
( _There is nothing to lose at this point_.)  
  
“ _Open chat client,_ ” D.Va says, stumbling a bit over the Korean, and then grins viciously when she sees the small, white box pull up on her mech’s front view. “ _Message to Lúcio._ ”  
  
( _Wow_ , Hana breathes.)  
  
Text almost immediately begins to spill onto the white screen the moment she reopens her conversation with Lúcio - she can’t read it from here, but maybe - “ _Read messages._ ” The MEKA doesn’t respond, which isn’t completely surprising; it doesn’t come with its own virtual intelligence to help it along. Almost everything has to be done by the mech operator themselves, given how easily the mechs had been hacked once upon a time. D.Va grimaces; it’s unfortunate, but she can still work with this.  
  
“ _Message to Lúcio_. I cannot read your messages right now, as I am not in my mech,” she says, switching to English, and then grins widely when she sees her own response appear on that tiny white screen. She can’t believe this is actually working. “I am in the basement of the building, I think. My mech crashed through the ceiling. I am orating this at the moment.”  
  
She lets that sit for a bit, just to make sure it had actually gone through. Seconds later Lúcio’s typed out a response, and now she can see it because he’s made the font ginormous.  
  
Sent at 21.32  
Lúcio!!!  
_**CAN YOU READ THIS?**_  
  
D.Va cracks up at that and responds, “It is backwards but legible, yes.”  
  
Sent at 21.32  
Lúcio!!!  
_**OK, GOOD TO KNOW.**_  
_** WE’RE ON OUR WAY.**_  
_** YOU’RE BEING KEPT IN A BUILDING IN EGYPT.**_  
  
“You do not need to underline and italicize everything. The bolding helps.”  
  
Sent at 21.32  
Lúcio!!!  
**OH SORRY.**  
** ARE YOU HURT? EVERYONE WANTS TO KNOW IF YOU’RE OK.**  
  
“I - I am fine.” D.Va hadn’t been intending to lie, but Hana clamors that she should, so she does. “Reaper was here earlier, but I am all right.” Which is funny, because it’s her left hand that’s injured, so she really is all right, and -  
  
( _Stop_ , Hana says sourly. D.Va does.)  
  
Sent at 21.32  
Lúcio!!!  
**THAT’S GOOD TO HEAR.**  
**WE SHOULD BE THERE IN A COUPLE OF MINS.**  
**WE’RE GONNA GET YOU OUT OF THERE.**  
  
“Be careful,” D.Va says. “Reaper knows you are coming. I think he and Talon are prepared for this.”  
  
Sent at 21.33  
Lúcio!!!  
**WE KNOW IT’S A TRAP, BUT IT’S NOT LIKE WE HAVE ANY CHOICE.**  
  
D.Va cooes at that. She loves Overwatch, really she does. Or at least she loves some of their members, which - reminds her - “Is 76 there? Can I talk to him?”

Sent at 21.33  
Lúcio!!!  
**OH. YEAH, ONE SEC.**  
**WE’RE LANDING RIGHT NOW THOUGH SO IT MIGHT BE WEIRD.**  
** AND I CAN’T JUST GIVE HIM MY TURNTABLES.**  
**SORRY. MAYBE IT’S NOT THE BEST IDEA.**  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Sent at 21.33  
Lúcio!!!  
**ALSO I’M AFRAID TO TALK TO HIM RIGHT NOW.**  
  
“ _Oh_ ,” D.Va says, because she gets that. “Will you stay online, at least?”  
  
Sent at 21.33  
Lúcio!!!  
**I’LL TRY.**  
**I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS THING DOESN’T HAVE FACETIME OR WHATEVER.**  
**I’M IN THE STRIKE OPS GROUP SO YOU’LL SEE US PRETTY QUICKLY.**  
  
( _Strike ops?_ Hana thinks.)  
  
“I do not know what you mean by that, but I hope you get here soon,” D.Va says. “If Reaper comes back - ”  
  
She breaks off abruptly when there’s a crunch - a boot on glass, and then she lets out a string of Korean curses as she tries to pinpoint where had come from. Every single one of them gets put into the chat before she snaps, “ _Close chat client, aim towards location of sound._ ”  
  
There’s another crunch, another footstep. D.Va holds her breath, lifting her head as far as she dares, but she can’t see anyone in the hallway.  
  
(I do not think it is Reaper, Hana says. _He would have teleported in._ )  
  
“True,” D.Va mutters, still straining her neck. The footsteps come closer; just how far had the glass flown? “But who else could it be besides Talon - ”  
  
The figure that steps before them, wide eyes settled on their prone form, is smaller. Frail, with a mop of black hair on their heads. Not at all what she would have expected from Talon, there isn’t a single weapon in sight, and it’s with a yawning sense of dread that she notes the white lab coat, the - the -  
  
( _Is that a doctor?_ And then, this time with Hana much more panicked: _Is this an occupied_ hospital _?_ )

* * *

“She’s fine! She’s - she says she’s okay!”  
  
76 sags back against the uncomfortable chair of the Orca, looking towards the ceiling and sighing, deeply, all at once. It’s - it’s more than he could’ve asked for, knowing that Hana is fine, knowing that he wasn’t going to find a corpse, and that makes him all the more determined as he straightens up again, rolling his shoulders and trying to focus on nothing at all.  
  
“This is excellent news!” Winston says with a delighted expression from where he stands near the center of the Orca, explanation of the plan derailed the moment Lúcio had yelled out that he had contact with Hana. “And she’s in the basement, you said?”  
  
“Yeah. Her mech - ” and here Lúcio chuckles, a full-body motion that starts from his chest and in with his smile - “Her mech blasted a hole through the ceiling. She’s fine, though, promise,” he adds, sensing some concerned glances.  
  
“Keep communicating with her,” Winston says. “We need to get as much information as possible about the place.”  
  
“You got it.”  
  
Winston nods, smiling slightly still, and then looks around the cabin. “Well, we got distracted, so let’s get back to business. Do we all remember the teams?”  
  
“Advance team is composed of myself, Bastion, Reinhardt, Lena, and Jesse,” Ana says without missing a beat. Her voice is soft but it still carries - a reminder to 76 of how she had once been his second-in-command. “We will provide a distraction, along with the strike ops team, to allow the teleporter to be placed.”  
  
“The team of which will be composed of myself, Zenyatta, Winston, and mister Lindholm,” Symmetra says, picking up where Ana had left off. “Knowing that there is a hole on the roof of the building is useful. It should not be difficult to sneak inside; we can likely go directly to where Hana is being kept.”  
  
“Once the teleporter is in place, strike ops team will move in,” Winston finishes. “That will include Jack, Angela, Genji, Hanzo, and Lúcio. Remember, you are there to go in, take out as many people as you can, grab Hana, and get out; with any luck, we can eliminate all Talon personnel inside the base without any casualties.”  
  
“We will need to move quickly,” Angela says, hands folded neatly on her lap. “It is only a matter of time before local authorities are alerted to our presence. The U.N. would not be pleased if they heard about our intervention here.”  
  
“Right. It should also be noted that several of our members are not at full effectiveness - ” and here Winston glances at Genji, who offers a slight wave as no less than two medics put their full healing powers towards him, Zenyatta’s orb floating above his shoulder while Angela’s Caduceus staff is attached to him - and then to Jesse, who has tucked his hat over his eyes and has already asked if he could take more pain meds for his migraine - “So we’ll have to keep that in mind going in.”  
  
“It would also be good to address the fact that Bastion is here,” Reinhardt says, a little stiffly. Bastion boops at him, and Reinhardt gives the robot a smile that looks more like a grimace. “Forgive me, my friend. It is - difficult for me to reconcile your image with what I have once fought. Torbjörn and I have many negative memories of those times.”  
  
Bastion beeps again, a series of them that vary in pitch. 76 notes them without meaning to as Zenyatta says, “It understands your concerns, Reinhardt. It will do its utmost not to cause you any panic.” A slight pause, as Bastion bweeps. “And you as well, Torbjörn.”  
  
Torbjörn grunts. He hasn’t said much since he’s gotten on the Orca; 76 is decidedly ignoring that fact for now, as he has greater concerns than an old friend’s biases.  
  
“ _I still don’t like the fact that we’re letting Hanzo traipse in like he owns the place_ ,” Lena’s voice comes over intercom. The reactions are mixed - some agree with her, but most are with 76, exchanging exasperating looks or rolling their eyes. “ _I don’t like the idea of him bein’ - we don’t know the first thing about him, Winston_.”  
  
“I will sit this mission out if it would make you feel better,” Hanzo says before anyone else can speak. His voice is entirely neutral even when he points out, “But I have a feeling my skills would be of use to you.”  
  
“I trust him,” Genji adds, and then, more coldly, “That should be enough for you, Lena.”  
  
76 feels like this is a moment where Jesse might interject with something, but the cowboy is silent. It’s a bit understandable; the kid really does understand that Hanzo’s talented, even though he might hold a grudge against him for what happened to Genji. 76 is sure he’ll figure it out, though he also knows Jesse holds grudges for a long time, possibly years. It will be fun to watch, and that’s when 76 finishes that train of thought and has to go back to blocking out every imaginable thing that could be happening to Hana right now as they made their way to her location.  
  
“Ah, which reminds me,” Winston says; “There’s a very good chance that Widowmaker will be there. We need a countermeasure for her if she is.”  
  
“She will likely cause problems for the advance team, as it would be a waste of her talents to have her inside,” Ana says, being the resident sniper and therefore the expert. “If we can determine her location, I should be able to maneuver and take her out. I - would prefer not to, though.”  
  
“Use a sleep dart,” Jesse says, and when Ana flashes him an amused glance, he grins under the brim of his hat and says, “They’ve gotten stronger of the years. Reckon it should keep her under for at least a coupla minutes at a time, enough that Lena can approach and do some damage.”  
  
“ _Cheers to that_ ,” Lena says in response.  
  
“Fair enough,” Ana says, and then, “She will not be a problem if she appears, Winston. We will keep her occupied.”  
  
“What about Reaper?”  
  
It’s Lúcio who says this, but he’s looking directly at 76 while he does so. He holds himself still and pretends he doesn’t notice - but the silence is expectant, and with an inward sigh, 76 lifts his head and begins to speak.  
  
“He’s only deadly in close quarters,” he says. “And his aim is shit. The only real problems are how he can dodge attacks and go incorporeal. Killing him won’t be easy, if it’s even possible.”  
  
“It will be difficult,” Angela agrees, oddly enough, and 76 gives her a glance askance as she goes on, “Like I said, we do not have much time. If nothing else, we should merely grab Hana and then get out; we do not necessarily need to strike out at Talon personnel.”  
  
“ _They’ve been killing us, one by one_ ,” Lena says, grim. “ _I dunno about you, but I’m taking as many of them out as I can._ ” Angela purses her lips but drops the subject; 76 makes a mental note to ask her about it later, and Lena changes the subject by announcing, “ _We’re almost there, loves. I hope you’re all ready for a shitshow_.”  
  
“I am ready,” Symmetra says, the wireframe of a teleporter lighting up in her palm, and then she stands from her seats and goes across to where 76 is sitting in four long strides. When she holds out her hand, 76 sees an small little thing, curled and smooth, made of blue and white hardlight material. It takes him a moment to get over his surprise and hold out his fingers as Symmetra fixes him with a steady, unreadable look.  
  
“Give this to Hana when you find her,” she says, dropping the comm into his waiting palm. “With any luck,” and she emphasizes this with a blink, _do not drop this, do not lose this,_ “It will be used for its intended purpose.”  
  
Her confidence in him is sobering - and everyone is watching him now. He’s not the leader anymore, but he guesses it’ll take a while for it to sink in as he, too, gets to his feet, nodding once at the Indian woman as everyone else follows his lead. “Right,” he says, and Symmetra’s smile is small but it’s there; he’s not sure who he’s addressing as he murmurs, “The war goes on,” but given the brittle smiles on his teammates’ faces, he figures it doesn’t matter.  
  
They’re getting her out. Everything else, at this point, is secondary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **korean** as always, please correct me if there are any errors! i am very unsure about some of these this time around  
>  _yut-mugguh_ \- fuck you  
>  _gguh-juh_ \- get the hell out/leave me alone  
>  _shibal_ \- fuck
> 
>  **spanish**  
>  _niña_ \- child (f.)  
>  _sombra, inicia la operación blanca. ellos han llegado temprano._ \- sombra, initiate operation white. they’ve arrived early.
> 
> firstly, apologies for the delay! it wasn't intentional at all; i had thought i would have time after attending a wedding yesterday (it was a gorgeous, perfect wedding, by the way. highly recommend marrying someone who's rich enough to give you a nice wedding, friends), but the reception went on pretty late into the night. in the end, i decided sleep was more of an important factor and put the update aside for now. in the future, if you notice a delay in any chapters, be sure to check my tumblr for any updates! that's where i will post reasons as to why the next chapter isn't posted. (there is a link to it in the secondary endnotes!)
> 
> secondly - my new pc has finally arrived! this means i can finally play overwatch with all y'all. if you see me, remember that my battletag is Key#11733 and please feel free to friend me and/or invite me to a group! i'd love to play with you c:
> 
> thirdly, i do have to mention a few people who've been helping me out with these chapters - not quite beta readers, but looking over everything and catching the smaller editing/cosmetic errors. i am very grateful for [Aqua_Artist](http://your-bucky.tumblr.com/) for catching smaller editing/cosmetic errors and for [costumebleh](http://costumebleh.tumblr.com/) for suggesting some killers lines (including the 'i don't speak edgelord' line and also the 'i am all right' joke in this chapter).
> 
> fourthly, thanks so much for all of your patience! it's been a chaotic few days getting things sorted out, so i appreciate you all giving me some time to sort through everything that's going on. much love! <3
> 
> headcanon, ROADTRIP EDITION (because i was just on a roadtrip for the wedding c:):
> 
> \- ana, 76, and mercy trade off on driving the Dadmobiles (a minivan). it's a never-ending struggle of driving, switching off, napping, and then driving again.  
> \- winston has to have his own separate car because he really doesn't fit into anyone else's. it can get a littlel lonely, but usually tracer and therefore mccree and genji - and therefore hanzo as well - keep him company. though sometimes he wishes they wouldn't be so loud or argue over the music so much.  
> \- reaper and widowmaker probably have their own edgy car where they play edgy music and shoot the shit for hours. their friendship is weird, scary, and legendary. riding with them means bringing earplugs and hoping neither of them asks for your opinion on MCR.  
> \- zenyatta, symmetra, and hana chill in the backseat of the Dadmobile with whoever's left usually sitting in the other seats up front. it's a pretty good time for all of them; zenyatta and symmetra often discuss the concept of inner peace, harmony, balance, etc. and hana likes to listen. either that, or they're all viciously arguing about a topic with the people in front of them. one can never know for sure what will happen.  
> \- bastion learns very quickly that sitting on top of cars in turret form - which keeps it secure to the car itself - isn't the best way to travel. it's usually put in whichever car has the most room and tries its utmost not to take up too much space.  
> \- torbjörn probably has his own car that he made from scratch that he and reinhardt ride in. no one else wants to ride with them because they have to suffer through terrible jokes and hasselhoff and memes.  
> \- lúcio prepares roadtrip playlists way ahead of schedule after people spent too much time arguing over what to play. because no one can really hate his music, and because lúcio is a precious cinnamon roll who accounts for everyone's tastes, he is in charge of music and has been dubbed musical overlord supreme.  
> 


	59. OPERATION: RÉQUIEM POR LA PÉRDIDA (part 3 of 5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana makes a run for it. 76 and squad move in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! it's been a while since i last updated, haha. sorry about that! you can check my tumblr for updates on that if you ever get curious as to why the new chapter isn't up. regardless - with any luck, the new update schedule is **one update every wednesday**.
> 
> that being said, make sure you have a great day today! you deserve it c:
> 
> also also: holy hits, batman, now i'm over 30k. you guys are the best!

The doctor, as it turns out, doesn’t speak English. This _would_ be fine except that D.Va doesn’t have her comm – and therefore a translator – on her person, and in order to get one, she’d need to get into her mech and activate the proper program. Naturally, that in itself is problematic, given how the doctor might then think she’s trying to kill them if she gets into her mech and also because one of her hands, while still moveable, is in such exquisite pain she doubts she’d be able to activate anything, let alone drive, with any agility.

(Hana reminds her to try the voice commands. Unfortunately, D.Va discovers it doesn’t work in this case.)

It could be worse: she babbles her gratitude in both English and Korean when the doctor loosens her bonds so she can escape, and she thinks it gets across because they give her a smile and say something in a calm, soothing voice as they gently examine her hand. Could be worse, she figures again, allowing them to flit to the other medical room and snatch some supplies so they can clean up and bandage her fingers. All Reaper had done was remove her fingernails; relatively tame, she’s willing to guess, as she flexes her newly-taped hand and smiles at the doctor in thanks.

( _Could be worse,_ Hana echoes, and then, a mantra, _could be worse, could be worse._ )

They give her a brilliant smile in return before saying something in fast-paced Arabic and gesturing towards her mech. She’s not sure what they’re asking, but she points to herself and says, “Mine,” followed shortly by the same word in Korean, and fortunately it gets across because their eyes widen and they say something else. D.Va’s not sure whether it’s because she’s so young and she’s driving a MEKA, or the fact that there’s a MEKA in the first place. She doesn’t think it matters, wishing she had some painkillers as she gently cradles her injured hand and hides her grimace of pain with a smile.

“Find somewhere safe,” she tells them,but she doesn’t think they understand. A quick glance around the room tells her the hospital is high-tech, cutting-edge in some ways even, and yet how there are no devices nearby that could be used as any sort of translator. High-tech, maybe, but perhaps underfunded.

( _Could be worse. Could be worse. Could be -_ )

( _-_ _yes,_ D.Va agrees, and Hana falls silent.)

Telling them about Talon is difficult. Mostly she just mimes guns shooting all around her and then points to them and to herself, drawing a finger across her neck, and it seems to get the message across. They nod when she tells them, again, to hide, and then they hook their fingers around her sleeve when she readies herself to go in the other direction. They say something else; D.Va doesn’t understand it, but she’s willing to bet it has something to do with the fact that she is running headlong into danger rather than away from it.

“My job,” she says, and then again in Korean, and she gently shakes them off, gives them a cheeky wave, and leaves them behind, feet silent and quick on the grimy tiles.

( _I have no weapons or armor_ , Hana whispers faintly as D.Va breaks into a light jog. _I have only received minimal training in stealth, and I’m wearing a bright blue suit in a white corridor._ )

“Could be worse,” D.Va murmurs, continuing through the brightly-lit hallways with her injured hand cradled in her elbow, heel first then toe with her feet, her breath coming out in a soft, slow pattern. The place seems to be squarish in nature, long hallways branching off into perpendicular corridors that lead to more long hallways; finding the stairs or even an elevator quite suddenly seems like a daunting task. “I will be careful.”

It aches, a deep lull in her chest, that she has to leave her mech behind – but even though driving it would give her an incredible advantage, using it in close quarters is difficult and she couldn’t maneuver it right now even though she wants to. She’s already bleeding through the bandages and the thought of using her left hand’s fingers for anything makes her grit her teeth and narrow her eyes. No, for this – she’s on her own.

“What is the plan?” D.Va says.

( _Find any member of Overwatch and tell them that this is a hospital_ , Hana replies, having finally regained at least a sliver of her composure. _The political ramifications of this would be catastrophic. If nothing else, I only need to grab the mech, and then we can go._ )

“Great,” D.Va says under her breath, sarcasm bleeding through readily enough. “Easy. Fantastic! I love my life.”

( _There must be stairs somewhere. Maybe at the end of the hallway?_ )

“God, this sucks _balls_.”

(She can already hear 76’s reprimand in her mind, and it makes her smile, if just for a moment.)

Someone clears their throat behind her, and she spins in place to see it’s the same doctor again. Somehow, in her wanderings, she must have made a complete circle back to where she started, and she groans in frustration and runs her uninjured hand through her hair. The doctor points a single finger upwards, a question in the tilt of their head, and when Hana nods, they point towards the opposite end of the hallway and say something. Presumably ‘stairs’, maybe ‘elevator’, D.Va doesn’t know, and with a nod and an embarrassed smile she sets off anew, wishing for the familiar weight of her handgun at her hip. She can hear the doctor’s soft, lilting chuckle behind her, and she hopes they survive the coming storm.

( _I hope they don’t get hurt for helping_ , Hana whispers in tandem.)

“They were not wearing any Talon paraphernalia,” D.Va says. “They will be fine.”

( _I guess so_ , Hana says doubtfully, and then, _oh, the stairs._ )

D.Va takes the stairs two at a time to find that she had indeed been in a basement. The first floor looks remarkably different from it – much less glass, for one, and less shiny, reflective surfaces, for another. It’s clear the place gets a lot of traffic as she goes through, and when she opens the doors from the stairwell, she’s hit with a wall of noise.

( _This is a lot of people_ , Hana says, voice small with worry; _it is little wonder why Talon set up here._ )

There’s shouting all over the place, a child crying somewhere, and D.Va dodges around a stretcher as she slips down the hallway. She stands out like a sore thumb in her blue bodysuit, her pale skin, her lighter brown hair, but she makes herself walk with purpose and people generally ignore her. A doctor in a white lab coat hurries by; on her breast pocket, the Talon symbol is emblazoned.

( _That is not good,_ Hana whispers.)

“But why would they willingly wear the Talon emblem?” D.Va mutters, pressing herself flat against a wall as a cot wheels by, a child lying still and silent upon its surface. She’s hopelessly lost at this point, the chaos of the place around her too cluttered for her to determine where she is and where she should go. “They are a known terrorist cell. Surely they do not have that strong of a foothold here.”

( _There were no translation comms available downstairs,_ Hana murmurs. _And there were not any painkillers – or if there are, the doctor made no move to give them to me._ )

“Talon is funding them?”

( _It is only a guess. Who could say for sure?_ )

“Most of your guesses have been on for par so far,” D.Va points out. She’s ducked into another hallway at this point, less crowded than the first, and it’s with a small bit of unease that she realizes she might never actually find her way outside – and if she does, she doesn’t know what she will find there. “If they are working with Talon, then they will be eliminated.”

( _And they are doctors. Killing them would be disastrous for Overwatch. The U.N. would be furious._ )

“The civilian casualties alone will be staggering,” D.Va mumbles as she moves along, “Especially if Reaper deems it necessary to further ruin Overwatch’s image and attack his own.”

( _We have to stop the attack before it begins._ )

“Right,” D.Va says, and then she swears once, loudly in explosive Korean, enough that she draws some attention to herself as she immediately begins to walk again, hopefully in the direction whence she had come, “I should have stayed by the mech – Athena could track it and send people after me. They will check there first.”

( _It is best that I left. Reaper could have come back and – hurt me, which would have defeated the purpose._ )

D.Va looks over her shoulder, pivots on a heel when she notes the sign marking stairs on the opposite end of the hallway. The sole of her shoe squeaks on the tile below, and she winces as a nurse looks over, hurrying away while ducking her head. “We have to go back – ”

“ _Well, you aren’t wrong.”_

Something clamps over her injured fingers, hard enough that she can’t help the pained gasp that draws all the air from her lungs. A quick glance shows a gloved hand with sharp claws and her instinct is to _pull away_ but she can’t, not without hurting herself even more. She doesn’t realize she’s letting out a steady stream of profanity as Reaper rumbles, “I thought I told you not to move.”

“Teenagers are known to be rebellious,” D.Va shoots back in between frenzied Korean.

At that he laughs. His grip tightens and D.Va feels the blood drain from her face at the white-hot explosion of pain, and it’s a while before her ears stop ringing and her vision clears up. He’s dragging her somewhere, presumably back down in the basement; it’s either she walks or he pulls, and it hurts so much she can’t do anything but comply. “Weren’t you the one just telling me you’re not a child?”

“What makes you think that I – ”

“You really don’t know when to shut up,” Reaper says, and D.Va snarls, wordless, tapering out with a whimper of pain as they pass by the same doctor as before. They regard the two of them with wide eyes, mouth slightly open as they stare at D.Va in particular; when she gives them a pained smile, they bolt for it, hopefully to safety, as D.Va’s ear picks up the hum of her mech drawing closer. It’s with no pity that Reaper bodily jerks her towards the table she had just left, stopping her attempt to escape with an expert twist of her arm and hands and fingers, and when the white fades from D.Va’s vision she’s flat on the table again, tears prickling hot in her eyes.

( _I want to go home_ , Hana says faintly.)

( _But where is home?_ D.Va answers, and neither of them know.)

“Your friends won’t know what they’re doing until it’s too late,” Reaper says, one shotgun resting over his shoulder as he looms over her. D.Va gasps for air and says nothing, dizzy from the fiery pain in her left hand. “Still, your tenacity is admirable. Perhaps you will be useful after all.”

“ _Perhaps you can go fuck yourself_ ,” D.Va wheezes between clenched teeth, the Korean coming out strangled.

“I’m excited to see what Overwatch will do,” Reaper goes on instead, faux-thoughtful. He puts a hand on her mech, runs it over the smooth surface; in the other he holds his gun, barrel held loosely level with her stomach. She swallows hard and chokes down a sob. “It’s a shame they will run out of time.”

 _For what?_ D.Va thinks, and then she hears a crash and she slams her eyes shut as Reaper chuckles, once, dark and with finality.

* * *

“ _Teleporter online. The path has been opened._ ”

“That’s our cue, team,” 76 says, waving a hand. Outside the building, the advance is well underway; Talon security forces have mobilized at the door, and while 76 can pick up heightened levels of panicked screaming from inside the building itself, he doesn’t let it distract him. “Let’s move.”

“ _Stay safe out there_ ,” Ana says over comm. “ _We’ll be watching your back._ ”

“We’ll be careful,” Angela promises, and then, “After you, Jack,” and then he’s darted through the teleporter and ended up in what looks to be a storage room, lit by industrial lights above that buzz a bit in the quiet. Torbjörn has set up a turret that faces the door; Symmetra’s hard-light laser turrets curve around the doorframe itself, and she is seated primly on a hard-light stool, clearly of her own devising. Winston and Zenyatta are both in the corner, seated and hovering, respectively, but tense and ready to move; if Torbjörn has any unease about being so close to an omnic, he doesn’t show it.

“The hole in the ceiling is several meters to the left of this room, down three doors in the hallway,” Symmetra tells him, crisp and concise, as Angela, Genji, Hanzo, and Lúcio follow him through the teleporter. She does a fantastic job of ignoring Lúcio’s dirty look as she continues, “There are many civilians about below, from what we have overheard from their frequencies. A call went out to local police; they will arrive in less than fifteen minutes.”

“Athena has been trying to figure out what exactly this place is, but Talon has put up impressive firewalls and blocks, even when we attempted to go through public channels,” Winston explains when 76 shoots him a look. “Lúcio would likely have a better crack at it than us.”

“No time, sorry,” Lúcio says with what looks to be a forced grin. Winston grimaces in return.

“Just from looking around, I would guess that this is a medical center of some kind,” Angela says, peering at a shelf full of what appears to be bandages, chemicals in small bottles, and other assorted medical goods. “Perhaps the turrets are unnecessary. We would not want to kill an innocent.”

“I just built it,” Torbjörn complains, though Symmetra immediately sits up and begins to wave her hands in the air; dismantling her turrets, perhaps. 76 doesn’t plan to stick around long enough to know for sure.

“Now is not the time to argue,” Angela replies, not flinty but sure and steadfast. 76 had always liked that about her, and it seems time has honed that particular aspect of her personality into a sharp weapon. “Ana, did you catch that?”

“ _I copy, Angela. We will change tactics in order not to damage the building._ ” A distant bang; Ana amends, “ _We will not damage it too much. I am looking at signage now_ – _this is definitely a hospital._ ”

“We’ll update you as Athena learns more,” Winston assures them both. “For now, we’ll keep the teleporter here, but Symmetra has said she is able to move it if necessary.”

“Understood, but we’re wasting time here. Let’s go,” 76 says, adjusting his grip on his pulse rifle.

“Lead the way, Commander,” Genji says, and 76 grimaces at the title but complies, poking his head out the door to see if the coast was clear before continuing onward.

They appear to be on the topmost floor of the building – there does not seem to be much activity here, at least not that 76 can tell. It makes sense if this was a medical center of some kind, a health clinic or perhaps even a hospital; wheeling patients up this many floors would be inconvenient at best, a loss of life at worst. 76 follows Symmetra’s directions and enters the appropriate door to find that Hana had not exaggerated – there is indeed a gaping hole in the hospital’s floor and, peering down, 76 can see Hana’s mech at the very bottom.

“I hope it did not injure anyone on its way down,” Angela says softly, her fingers tapping lightly against the side of her Caduceus staff.

“Suppose we won’t know ‘til we follow,” 76 replies, rolling his shoulders and glancing behind him. “Genji, Hanzo, this shouldn’t be a problem for you, should it?”

“Who do you take us for, Commander?” Genji says. In any other circumstance, it might have come out amused. Hanzo just looks insulted.

“We’ll have to find stairs,” Lúcio says. “Shouldn’t be a problem, think I saw a sign at the end of the hall.”

“Don’t go until my command,” 76 tells the two brothers. “I’ll let you know when we’ve reached the basement.”

“As you say, Jack,” Angela says, stepping over to stand with the Shimadas. “We will be ready.”

“Good. Lúcio, lead on.”

“You got it.”

The stairs end up being at the end of the hallway, a simple door opening up to a stairwell that leads down, down, down. 76 takes the steps three at a time as Lúcio skids along the walls, music playing faintly in 76’s comm that somehow makes it easier to ignore the aches and move quicker and more fluidly; someday he’d ask the Brazilian about it, but not right now, as they skid to a halt at the very bottom door and 76 reaches up to touch his comm.

“We’re in the basement. Go.”

“ _Understood_ ,” Hanzo says, and then 76’s pushing out the door, Lúcio on his heels, and is confronted with a long, narrow hallway that gleams under bright, fluorescent lights and grimy gray tiles. He picks up on sound further down and to the left, he’d guess, taking off at a dead sprint as Lúcio skates after him. He rushes by a person in a lab coat – he’d guess they’re a doctor, maybe a nurse – and, when he skids around a corner, he sees shattered glass, crumbles of ceiling, and –

“Hana,” he breathes, just as Genji and Hanzo drop down from the ceiling and a dark figure rears away from the MEKA pilot’s prone form. The Shimada brothers’ teamwork is enough to drive Reaper back, and then 76 isn’t thinking as he charges forward, feeling rather than hearing Lúcio’s music switch to something more soothing.

For a moment, everything seems to happen at once. Reaper floats above the ground, arms splayed wide as Genji and Hanzo’s attacks pass through him harmlessly, his head turning to look at 76; Angela settles next to Hana with her staff, eyebrows drawn together and mouth slightly ajar as she takes stock; and 76 feels his jaw set, his chest constrict, fury roaring through his bloodstream as he advances, hard and sure.

“Hello, Jack,” Reaper says with a harsh laugh – a laugh that stops when 76 ignores him completely and instead goes to Hana’s side, a laugh that’s cut off when he becomes corporeal again and Genji engages him without missing a beat, slipping serpentine around Hanzo’s scatter shot, a laugh that becomes a frustrated rumble of a growl as Lúcio raises his gun and fires a burst of weaponized sound at him. Right now, 76 has bigger worries than a crazed ex-friend (and more), especially as he throws down a biotic field and watches as Hana mouths something to herself as Angela finishes undoing her straps.

He gives Hana a cursory look-over as he draws close, clenching his teeth when he sees that her face is streaked with tears; she has what appears to be the beginnings of a black eye, the remnants of a bloody nose, and other smaller, superficial cuts that have since healed thanks to Angela’s staff. Her left hand is bandaged and bloody, and it’s clear Reaper had been going for her other hand, too, because the fingernails of her pinky and ring finger are missing. It’s – not good. It’s not even a form of torture that is remotely effective if Reaper had been aiming to coax knowledge out of her at all; no, this is just a desire to cause pain, and he had done it, and Hana had taken it and _she said she had been fine_ , but she had also given herself up and 76 would never, ever just take her word for it about this kind of thing again.

76 had thought he’d been furious before. Now, he glances sideways at where Reaper is fending off both Shimada brothers and Lúcio, and he feels nothing but black, dark hatred, breath coming out in one hard exhale as his fingers itch to just – do something, do anything, to harm the ghost who can’t leave well enough alone. But then there’s a cough; his head swivels back to Hana, whose eyes have opened slightly. He thinks he can feel his heart crack a little when she manages a tiny, pained smile, showing off a chipped tooth.

“Hi, dad,” she whispers, and it’s quiet but strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> firstly, big ol' thank you to my cheerreaders/betas - [your-bucky](http://your-bucky.tumblr.com/), [costumebleh](http://costumebleh.tumblr.com/), [slimy-hipster](http://slimy-hipster.tumblr.com/), [roguevector](http://roguevector.tumblr.com/), definitely wouldn't have gotten this up as fast without your help. <3
> 
> secondly, yeah, it's been a while! hope y'all have been doing good. c: the reason for the delay in updates can be summed up in two words: college, overwatch. sorry abou that! it's just, you know, i wrote a six-page paper yesterday in four hours and before that there was mock trial stuff to take care of and before that there was math homework and before that... it goes on. plus i can't do poorly because i'm on a lot of financial aid right now, haha.
> 
> thirdly, many of you have reached out to me to tell me to take my time and rest up, and i appreciate that so much. you are all the best and i hope you really do have a wonderful day today.
> 
> fourthly, ART. LOOK AT THIS GLORIOUS STUFF, COURTESY [lovelytitania](http://lovelytitania.tumblr.com/). so beautiful!
> 
>   
> headcanons:
> 
> \- 76, when he becomes comfortable enough to go around base without his mask, wears glasses. they're not weird dad glasses, either - hana picked them out so they actually match his face and look great and no one really knows how to handle it  
> \- ana wore a spectacle once and went around with a teacup, sticking a pinky out and aggressively making fun of the english upperclass. tracer was enthused in the beginning and vined it, but became less and less enthused as the day went on  
> \- bastion and symmetra make a great team when it comes to organizing things. put them in a messy room with files and papers and they'll have it pristine and perfect at the end of the day, mostly because bastion can read through electronic files very quickly and sort them into the appropriate category and symmetra is just good at organizing, period  
> \- genji, when actively working with mercy, will circle back around to check on her and fend off anyone who might be attacking her. he never realized how much shit mercy went through when he halfway across the map yelling for healing until he was adventuring off on his own; it's his way of apologizing, and mercy greatly appreciates knowing she doesn't have to run off to find and heal him when he'll instead come directly to her  
> \- hana continuously practices _starcraft_ whenever she has downtime and she's not streaming. it's difficult to keep her edge when she's lost so much time to other activities, but she will not lose her world champion title for anything  
>  \- hanzo is not good at meditating. (this is based on the fact that he fidgets during his sit emote.)  
> \- lúcio is part of anonymous (or the future equivalent of anonymous), though getting him to admit it would take bribes that no one could ever afford to get  
> \- mccree never locks his room because he always forgets his keys and getting locked out constantly was just a little too annoying  
> \- reaper sleeps with his window open. is it instinct so that he can make a quick escape? does he just want fresh air? no one knows.  
> \- reinhardt is pretty savvy when it comes to tech, but it's more fun to pretend he isn't so he can ask for help on something and then rickroll his victim  
> \- torbjörn likes to make small, intricate sculptures that he then stacks together to make one enormous sculpture. he and symmetra would probably be evenly matched at tetris.  
> \- widowmaker forgets to eat unless someone reminds her, and even then, she eats very little. it's not physically possible for her to burn many calories just because her metabolism is so damn slow  
> \- honestly, the biology of widowmaker is one-hundred percent impossible. there's a reason our bodies are kept at a certain temperature, and that's to make sure enzymes function properly so our cells can survive. unless talon somehow filled her body with cells and enzymes that can function at low temperatures, there's no way she'd be alive.  
> \- which makes you wonder: what kind of cells and enzymes did they use? did they take them from cold-blooded animals? shit, now i'm curious. i'm no bio major, but i know enough that i could probably research this.  
> \- winston is probably going to request fifteen jars of really nice peanut butter to unwind from this mission. he won't, though, because he has so much to do and too little time. jack should really help him out.  
> \- zenyatta can't snipe like ana and widowmaker can, but his discord orbs make it a lot easier for him to aim


	60. OPERATION: RÉQUIEM POR LA PÉRDIDA (part 4 of 5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana is rescued. The aftermath isn't pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it turns out that majoring in both compsci and econ is so much easier than going into the harder sciences (bio, chem, biochem, pre-med, etc.). good on me, but my math class is still kicking my butt and it won't be good practice if i do get into law school someday ;-; sometimes i still remember my childhood dream of going pro as a gamer and wonder how i ended up here, haha. maybe i can still achieve that with overwatch?
> 
> much thanks to my cheerreaders/betas! roguevector, costumebleh, your-bucky, slimy-hipster, couldn't have done it without you <3
> 
> that being said, happy wednesday and i hope you have wonderful week!

D.Va can’t see 76’s face from her vantage point on the table, but she knows him well enough to read his stance and tense shoulders as _anger, fear, worry,_ all at once. She feels soft and warm now, gentle yellow dancing in the corner of her eye as Dr. Ziegler murmurs softly to herself in German, and when she offers 76 a smile, she’s glad to see him slump slightly in relief.

“Hi, Hana,” he says after a few moments, gun slinging over his shoulder. Hearing his voice is enough to make her eyes sting and a tight coil to unwind in her chest, and she sniffs and then immediately coughs because _blood_ when he smooths a hand over her forehead. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“It’s a hospital,” D.Va tells him urgently instead of reassuring him. Her voice is thankfully clear, and it’s simple and easy for her to focus on the red line of 76’s visor. “Talon funds it, I think. Some doctors and nurses are wearing the Talon emblem. You cannot shoot them, or – ”

“We know,” 76 says, voice firm but not cutting, “Don’t worry.”

“Where is Reaper?” D.Va asks; now that she’s not dulled by constant pain, her mind is sharp and focused, honed in on every single detail as she tries to sit up. A firm hand on her shoulder keeps her down, probably Dr. Ziegler’s, D.Va would guess. “If he – he would try to kill those doctors, make it seem like – ”

“He’s occupied,” 76 says, and then, “Hold still,” and she tilts her head obediently when he gently nudges her temple. Something warm and light settles into the pinna of her ear, sturdy despite its lack of weight, and after a few moments of 76 poking around a bit, voices begin to filter through. A comm at long last, and she can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of her throat; now she could thank the doctor if she could find them.

( _I hope they are still okay_ , Hana whispers.)

“She is going into shock,” Dr. Ziegler says; “We need to keep her temperature stable.”

“ _The local authorities are only five minutes out,_ ” another voice warns over comm. D.Va recognizes it as Satya’s, smooth and cool. “ _Speed would be optimal._ ”

“Copy that,” 76 says, and D.Va watches him with detachment as he slips out of his coat and settles it over her body instead, gingerly slipping one arm under her back, the other under her knees and lifting her up bridal-style. Dr. Ziegler maintains the connection between her and her Caduceus staff, and that’s when D.Va finally gets a good look at the action happening outside the room. Cracked glass tinkles on the floor as Genji and Hanzo almost dance around Reaper; they’ve driven him further down the hallway, Lúcio using his sonic amplifier to keep Reaper back whenever he tried to move closer. “Any progress, Genji?”

“ _His ability to go incorporeal can be applied to specific parts of his body_ ,” Hanzo reports, likely because Genji is locked into some strange kind of firearm versus sword combat, a gun whip skidding off of Genji’s blade as the cyborg leaps forward and drives his sword down – and through – Reaper’s arm. “ _We have been unable to get a hit, though he is occupied_.”

“I need to get Hana out of here. Will you – ”

“Go,” Lúcio barks, and that’s enough to get 76 to take off at a run, Dr. Ziegler behind him with wings spread. D.Va lets out the tiniest sound of discomfort when her hand gets jostled by the movement, and though 76 spares her an apologetic glance, he doesn’t slow his pace. She gets it, time is of essence, but –

“My mech,” D.Va remembers suddenly, though the moment she makes to squirm out of 76’s hold, he tightens his grip on her and shakes his head. She bites her lip but doesn’t argue; she’s not in a good mindset to do so, anyway, and the trigger mechanism is still in her shoe. With any luck, that would suffice, and then she remembers something else as she grips 76’s shirt in her relatively-uninjured right hand and she says, “Is everyone else all right, too?”

“Everyone’s fine,” 76 replies, terse. “Reinhardt, Jesse, and Bastion are outside. You saw Genji and Hanzo.”

“Try not to talk, Hana,” Dr. Ziegler says soothingly. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“I am not useless,” D.Va snaps, but she otherwise doesn’t protest because – because it’s nice knowing she doesn’t have to get up, to have 76’s jacket draped over her like a blanket, to know that she can finally just _stop_ and know she’s safe even though there’s so much she should be, could be doing. _Could be worse, could be worse,_ and Hana lets her head fall against 76’s shoulder and tries to steady her breathing as the panic from well before this mess starts crawling in her throat, shutting her eyes tightly as 76 darts into the stairwell and starts his ascent.

( _How far? Where to?_ D.Va wonders.)

“ _Athena has finished her preliminary scans,_ ” Winston’s voice says suddenly, crackling through comm without any warning. “ _We have to intervene; Talon’s started to gun down medical personnel and aims to leave so the blame can be put on us._ ”

“ _Copy that,_ ” Ana says, quiet but hard. “ _Advance team moving in. Lead on, Reinhardt_.” There’s a battle cry yelled entirely in German before the transmission cuts out.

“ _I have identified the local authorities, as well,_ ” Athena says, voice soft and demure. “ _They are augmented by a Raptora team from Helix Security International. Be cautious; they typically strike from the air._ ”

“ _Helix?_ ” McCree says, and then there’s a laugh and he says, “ _Damn, we got lucky. Give me a hot minute, Ana?_ ”

“ _You have just the one, Jesse._ ”

“ _More than enough. Might want t’do something about them Talon agents inside, though._ ”

“ _Widow is down, so she shouldn’t be giving anyone any problems_ ,” Tracer chimes in, deadly serious as only a Blackwatch agent can be. “ _I can move into the building proper if you want me there._ ”

“Your call, Winston,” 76 reminds the gorilla into the expectant silence. He’s gone up four flights of stairs now, Hana notes with detachment, and it’s getting increasingly harder to keep her breathing regular and her heart hasn’t stopped racing since - she’s not sure, really, but she clings closer to 76 as he gets to the top to the stairwell and goes through the door. “I need to get Hana out of here.”

To Winston’s credit, he doesn’t miss a beat. “ _Lena, move in, but be careful. Check to make sure your targets are actually Talon before doing anything._ ”

“ _Roger that, big guy._ ”

Winston makes an affirmative noise. “ _Genji, what’s your status?_ ”

“ _Alive, but Reaper is moving up after you, Commander. Hanzo and I are in pursuit._ ”

“ _Where’s Lúcio?_ ” Winston asks, just as 76 turns into a room and Hana’s ear picks up on a soft hum. A glance to her left reveals a glowing blue teleporter and Satya seated next to it, though the woman rises to her feet the moment 76 and Hana step inside, hands moving in a swift, graceful pattern until Hana feels something cool settle around her skin; a shield, perhaps.

“ _Looking through their servers,_ ” Lúcio reports. “ _Some doc let me at them, kept babbling about Hana and about how they don’t understand what’s going on but they want to help. The servers are clean, beyond a bit of encryption. Talon must’ve wiped them when they heard we were coming._ ”

“You left a medic on their own?” Winston demands, followed shortly by “Lena, get to Lúcio’s position immediately,” and then 76 goes towards the blue teleporter, Hana briefly can’t breathe, and then they’re through and they’re in the Orca and it’s just her and 76 and Dr. Ziegler.

The silence is deafening. All Hana can hear is her heart pumping her blood and her lungs trying and failing to gulp in air.

“She should be fine,” Dr. Ziegler says, and the yellow glow from her Caduceus staff fades away. ( _Liar_ , D.Va snarls, but Hana says nothing.) “Will you be all right on your own? I should go bolster Ana’s presence on the advance team.”

“We’ll be okay,” 76 says. A long exhale, and then, “Thanks, Angela.”

“Of course, Jack.”

Hana feels rather than sees Dr. Ziegler’s lingering glance before the doctor turns and glides out of the VTOL. She’s not sure where the doctor goes, exactly, beyond landing next to another figure who appears to be McCree, and then Hana stops trying to hold the last of her composure and she realizes how much she’s shaking.

76 goes towards one of the chairs lining the side of the Orca’s cabin, which would be fine except then Hana would be on her own, so she keeps a hand curled in his shirt when he puts her down and moves to apparently take the spot beside her. He continues to attempt to maneuver around her for a few seconds - but in the end she’s clinging to him too tightly for him to do anything but kind of sit on the floor and tug her down with him. It’s… warm. She could get used to this, huddled up in his coat against him, minus the part where her breaths come out in ragged gasps and her vision is tunneling on the bright blue of the sleeve.

( _Could be worse_ , D.Va whispers.)

“So, uh,” 76 says, and Hana gets the distinct sense he’s going to mess up the delivery because he _always_ messes up the delivery, “Are you alright, Hana?”

“That is such a dumb question,” Hana manages to warble, voice unsteady and whispery, her vision blurring and going dark at the edges as she finally just lets it all go, panic and exhaustion and hysteria and terror escaping all at once. She’s hardly aware of what’s going on around her, too embroiled in the internal conflict of her mind, flashes of terrible pain and Reaper’s eerie, empty mask and the crackling of glass and the Talon symbol emblazoned on a shirt pocket, and then she just curls up tightly and tries not to make too much noise as she shuts her eyes and she feels the tears pool up behind them.

“Sorry,” 76 whispers at some point, when she’s lucid enough for just a brief moment to realize he’s just holding her to him and one of his hands is rubbing circles into her back. She’s not sure what he means, too caught up in a whirlwind of abject fear and distress to really know anything, but he hugs her to him and mumbles, “I’m sorry you got caught up in this.”

“Shut up,” she answers, maybe, hiccuping on the words, and she has a strange moment of feeling bad because she’s getting snot and tears and blood on his shirt, and then her mind reminds her that that’s probably the least of her worries but she can’t help but think about it because she’s ruining his clothes and he’s doing all these things for her and this is how she repays him? And then she chokes on air and nothing and everything is just - everything is _too much._

(D.Va is silent.)

Hana’s not sure how long she sits there, hidden in the safety of 76’s jacket and curled up against his chest, shaking and crying and making as little noise as possible (which doesn’t do much in the end, she’s willing to guess), and she only notices there are other people in the Orca when she hears someone speaking and then they abruptly cut themselves off, probably when they see her. She doesn’t care, too focused on slowing the racing of her heart and her pained, shallow breaths, and a part of her wishes she could just _stop_ but another part of her knows that it’s far too late for that.

“ _Strap in, loves,_ ” Tracer’s voice comes over intercom after a minute, after an eternity; “ _We’re off to Gibraltar._ ”

This time Hana doesn’t fight when 76 pulls her up and puts her into a seat, settling into the spot beside her; this time she just pulls his jacket closer and over her head, hugging it closed in front of her so she doesn’t have to see everyone else watching, leaning over until her head hits 76’s side and she can just kind of sag into him. His arm loops around her shoulders and his hand settles on her arm a moment later, and then she just tries not to think too hard about bright lights and white rooms and oily laughter and takes comfort in knowing that now, at least, it’s over.

( _Only half the battle,_ D.Va says, dark and sure, and Hana knows it.)

* * *

76 learns some of what happened in the hospital during the debrief, which basically amounts to  Winston talking everyone’s ear off about possible ramifications, extra precautions, and the fact that a number of agents would be grounded for an indefinite period of time. It’s only after the debrief, when 76 sits down with Genji, Hanzo, and Zenyatta, that he learns more details. Hana is seated by his side, small and quiet but looking much better dressed in her own pajamas and with the swelling of her blackened eye going down.

“Perhaps you should be resting,” Hanzo suggests when he sees her, expression unreadable but his voice laced with the slightest touch of concern, which isn’t a bad idea at all - but 76 somehow doubts sleep will come easy to her.

“I am not tired,” Hana replies, predictably. She’s staring down at the soup someone made for her; 76 thinks it might have been Lúcio, given the soft music emanating from the kitchen. She has yet to touch the spoon.

“We should all be resting,” 76 points out. Genji and Reinhardt had gone to Eichenwalde yesterday evening; the whole disaster at the hospital had begun and ended in a span of an sixty minutes. The part that took the longest was transport, and now it was around seven in the morning. No one had slept for at least twenty-four hours, but only a few had actually gone to their rooms as far as 76 knew. “Mind telling me what actually happened back there?”

Zenyatta spins a harmony orb until it hangs over Hana’s shoulder instead of replying. Hanzo’s lips thin just slightly as he glances towards his folded hands on the table; it’s Genji who sighs, long and slow, and actually answers, mostly uninterrupted save for slight corrections by either his brother or his mentor. What 76 gets is a strange story that’s equal parts luck, misfortune, and coincidence.

Reaper had followed 76 up the stairs, as it turns out, intent on confronting him - though neither Genji nor Hanzo were certain of his motives - and had happened upon the teleporter room. According to Zenyatta, he hadn’t been expecting four well-armed agents lying in wait and had quickly fled rather than fight all four of them at once, especially with the Shimada brothers closing in behind him; no one was sure if Reaper had actually registered the teleporter’s presence or not, as he did not try to enter it, and he had instead gone fully incorporeal and whisked himself out the door. Genji and Hanzo had followed in pursuit; once they had gotten to the roof, Reaper had teleported into a waiting Talon plane with Widowmaker and had left the scene.

Helix Security International had sent out a team of fifteen agents as well; at that point, a few of them had landed on the roof and confronted both Genji and Hanzo as the Talon plane sped away, given the first appeared to be a violent omnic and the other was wanted by numerous agencies across the world. What turned out to be their saving grace was, surprisingly, Jesse McCree - who knew the head of the Egyptian Helix Security branch was one Fareeha Amari and had gotten in touch with her.

“Fareeha?” 76 repeats, unsure if he’d misheard.

“Yes,” Genji says. “She has grown up very well, Commander. She goes by Pharah and has led Helix Security’s Egyptian branch for a number of years now.”

“Huh” is all 76 can say to that. Granted, he hasn’t taken the time to really talk to Ana much since she’d arrived beyond occasionally chatting with her with the old Overwatch chat client, but he figures it would’ve come up eventually… unless Ana herself hadn’t been aware of her daughter’s position. “Last I heard, she was in the Egyptian military.”

“That was before Overwatch was dismantled,” Genji explains. “You know how badly she wanted to join.”

“And I remember how often she and Ana argued about it,” 76 agrees. Hana has nestled into his side at this point, one of her arms looped around his and pressed close, and 76 reaches over and nudges her bowl of soup closer to her. With some reluctance, she unfolds slightly to pick up the spoon, and 76 turns back to Genji. “So how did that interaction go, then?”

Seemingly Fareeha had been willing to give Genji a chance to explain himself, though once she learned her mother was there she had hightailed it to go see what the hell was going on. Ana had probably explained the whole op, though Hanzo, Genji, or Zenyatta couldn’t know for sure, and soon Helix was investigating the hospital itself once the advance team had stopped creating a commotion out front.

“What they found was a lot of people,” Genji says, one finger tapping on the wood of the table in a regular, fast-paced pattern. “Apparently Talon had begun to get rid of liabil -  ”

Hanzo lifts a hand so that the back of his knuckles graze Genji’s helmet; his little brother stops talking, and Hanzo tilts his head slightly in Hana’s direction, eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the cyborg, and continues, “Talon had been attempting to set all of you up, so it appears. Helix was fortunately aware of Talon and knew that it was not Overwatch’s fault. For the moment, the organization will remain blameless.”

The rest goes unsaid: _Talon personnel had killed a number of civilians in hopes of pinning it on Overwatch._ 76 doubts Hana had missed the subtext, but she doesn’t say anything as she quietly spoons soup into her mouth, apparently entirely focused on the task.

“You’re not joining us?” 76 asks.

“It is best that I am not directly affiliated,” Hanzo explains, one eyebrow rising. “You are aware that I am a wanted man.”

“So’s Jesse, and he’s here,” 76 points out.

“He is not officially on the roster,” Hanzo says. “So he has told me, anyway. None of Blackwatch’s members have been mentioned at U.N. meetings. Neither have you, in fact.”

“You actually watch those?” Genji says, chuckling. Hanzo gives his brother a look that reads something like _I cannot believe I am related to you._  “It seems you still are the most patient of the two of us, _anija_.”

“There is much to be learned from world politics,” Hanzo says, seemingly stern, but 76 can see the slight upward curve to his lip and wonders when, exactly, Genji and Hanzo had reconciled. Perhaps Hana would be able to learn more, seeing as both of the brothers have taken a shine to her; for now, he was willing to let sleeping dragons lie.

“So after Fareeha checked things out, we left, I’m assuming,” 76 says, returning to the subject at hand. The others refocused at his words.

“Yes. She said she would contact Winston later once she had spoken with the hospital staff and her superiors. I assume that is why Winston shuffled us out of the conference room so quickly,” Zenyatta says. He’s since changed positions to be floating just a few centimeters atop the table, head lowered and hands perched on his knees. His orbs rotate around him in a horizontal circle, occasionally bouncing and letting out a soft chiming noise; it’s soothing, and 76 knows it’s for Hana’s benefit. “We are very fortunate that Jesse was able to contact her.”

“Yes,” Hanzo agrees. “Without his intervention, we would be much worse off, I believe.”

“I remember Lúcio was going through their servers,” 76 says; “And he didn’t find anything, I’m guessing.”

“No,” Genji says with a shake of his head. He is still limping and has other superficial injuries, but he appears to be in much better shape than before, as the motion does not seemingly cause him pain. “They had nothing. Lúcio said the program used to wipe them was very simple and efficient. Given more time, he might have been able to get something, but he was doubtful.”

“Regardless, Reaper will be very disappointed his plan fell through,” Hanzo says. “It would be wise to invest in security of some kind.”

“It didn’t completely fail.”

That comes from Ana, who slips into the spot next to 76 with a teacup and saucer. For once Hana doesn’t react because of her presence; too shell-shocked, which perhaps isn’t the best sign.

“Reaper has pinpointed our weaknesses,” Ana says, continuing her train of thought. “He knows where to strike so that we will react, instantly and without much planning. Despite Fareeha’s best efforts, word will eventually trace the attack back to us eventually; we will have to work on getting a public relations unit up and running as soon as possible. Not to mention we have effectively dismantled a major hospital, given they will no longer have secure funding.”

“Our reputation is going to take a huge hit,” 76 mutters, knowing how this kind of thing worked very well, and Ana nods. She looks tired, but it doesn’t show as she lifts her teacup to her lips and takes a sip.

“The U.N. will hear of it soon enough. I believe Winston is going to try and arrange a meeting with them, along with Fareeha, as quickly as possible. The sooner we can spin the story in our favor, the less damage that will be done.” Ana sighs and sets her teacup back down on its saucer. “I will see how I can help the hospital. Lúcio said he would do what he can, which probably means something that is not entirely legal but not so illegal that he will get in trouble, so I'd best get started soon.”

76 can hear the unspoken question: _was the op worth going on?_ As a solder, he knows the answer is _no_ , but - just imagining the consequences of what could have happened to Hana are enough to make him glad the operation had gone as smoothly as it had. He would not let anyone down again if he could help it.

“I can help you,” Hanzo offers. “I may still have a few connections around that region.”

“Even now?” Genji asks, sounding surprised.

“Do not pretend you do not keep in touch with certain contacts, _otouto_.”

“Everyone thought I was dead, Hanzo,” Genji points out.

Hanzo is entirely unfazed. “That did not stop you from becoming the man you are today.”

“True, but it is difficult to have connections when you tell them you are the dead son of a former yakuza boss.”

“Children, behave,” Ana says, in a voice that reminds 76 of the old days, and he can't help but feel amused when Genji merely starts laughing and Hanzo gives a light chuckle.

Hana mumbles something, too quiet for anyone but 76 to pick up with his more sensitive hearing, and that’s when he eases himself to his feet, gently pulling Hana up with him. “Thanks,” he tells the four at the table, feeling slightly out-of-place, slightly awkward.

Ana just waves a hand, a small, sad smile on her face; it’s Zenyatta who says, “Peace be with you both,” accompanied by Genji’s nod and Hanzo’s murmured pleasantry in Japanese, and then 76 puts his arm around Hana’s shoulder and guides her out of the mess hall and towards the personal rooms.

He’s... not sure what to do. Hana’s reaction to being rescued had been confusing; she had, at first, been relatively calm and collected, but once on the plane, everything had hit her at once and 76 is more than impressed that she had managed to contain it for so long without once breaking face. He’s proud of her for that in some ways - he hasn’t heard her side of the story, but he knows that she did not give Reaper an inch - and at the same time he is extremely concerned, because she had once mentioned that she throws up the D.Va persona to protect herself. How often does she do it? How will it affect her in the future? How much will she have changed, after what Reaper did to her?

He doesn’t know how to begin to broach the subject, but he does know that Hana won’t tell anyone else about it, and if he wants to coax her into speaking, he will have to do it delicately. He’s trying to figure out when he might able to ask Angela when they’ve reached her door and Hana murmurs, “I left my clothes in the dryer.”

76 looks down at her - really looks at her this time. Her eyes are shadowed, gaze down as she huddles in on herself. She’s not short by any means, but the way she hunches in to make herself small strikes him as intimate, private; though her face doesn’t give away much, the way she worries her sleeve between two fingers and how her steps are small and shuffling is telling. She’s… not broken, but cracked at the very least, barely holding together at the edges, and he knows that she’ll internalize it and the cycle will begin anew. He can’t let that happen.

He feels another flare of anger burst up in his chest and squelches it immediately. The next time he sees Reaper, he wouldn’t let the opportunity pass him by; this time he knows it for sure. But right now he has other priorities, and one of them is helping this Korean girl who has somehow become the most important person in his life be okay.

“Let’s go get them, then,” he says, amusement unintentionally curling into his tone, and though he can tell her smile is small and maybe just a bit forced, he will take what little victories he can get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **japanese**  
>  _anija_ \- honorific for older sibling  
>  _otouto_ \- honorific for younger brother (i think. i hope.)
> 
> hana bby ;-; _be the dad 76_
> 
> and pharah appears! and promptly disappears. no worries, she'll make a comeback soon. c:
> 
> also also, to my american readers (or anyone else) - i hope you all watched the presidential debate on monday! i won't say anything about it here because i don't want to ruffle any feathers except that, given my political affiliations, it was comedy gold c': if you're old enough to vote, make sure you're registered!
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- 76 can understand several languages, as it was part of his supersoldier training, but he can't speak them very well. these include spanish, chinese, and hindi (of the most spoken languages of the world at this time, chinese comes first, followed by spanish, english, and hindi, just for clarification).  
> \- ana is like a professional wine taster except for tea. she is such a snob but in a nice way and she always wants to have others try tea when possible and it's actually a little scary how fanatic she can get about it.  
> \- bastion is capable of playing video games with hana by linking up directly to the console or pc. it makes for some amusing streams, especially once people see the siege automaton just chilling behind her from her webcam.  
> \- if you see one shimada brother, the odds are good that the other is nearby. usually mccree is the one sent out to fetch them because he is always watching and observing around him and has the best chances of spying at least one of them.  
> \- lúcio is mercy's assistant for pretty much any surgery that may come up, and while zenyatta sometimes swaps with him, ana flat-out refuses to try. symmetra can also fill this role but, due to her inexperience with medical procedures, she's usually only called upon whenever a prosthetic limb needs to be examined.  
> \- reaper can remove his mask. what's underneath depends on how recently he's fed on a person's soul.  
> \- reinhardt is one of overwatch's main pillars of support; winston often goes to him for guidance, as did jack once upon a time.  
> \- torbjörn and tracer are often accomplices in pranks. no one ever suspects him to have helped tracer put buckets of water on everyone's door one day Before (probably because he's so short)  
> \- widowmaker undergoes neural reconditioning every time she starts to remember something. she does this willingly.  
>   
> still one more part of this, mostly dealing with consequences and ramifications. get excited, y'all! see you next wednesday! c:


	61. OPERATION: RÉQUIEM POR LA PÉRDIDA (part 5 of 5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week passes. There's talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoooooooo
> 
> so i didn't get to responding to everyone's comments last chapter.......... i am sorry ;-; midterms are this thursday and i have been very busy with other activities! and also writing this chapter, which is. very long. it is my apology from me to you! i hope you will accept it c: otherwise, my birthday is coming up! october 15th! my sister is coming to celebrate with me so i am very excited because it's been a while since i last saw her. and i just got those alpine spiced apple cider powder pack things? they are delicious and i am now ready for the cold winter.
> 
> also also, many thanks to my cheer-readers/betas! wouldn't be able to post this weekly without your help, roguevector, your-bucky, costumebleh, slimy-hipster. <3
> 
> happy wednesday, and i hope you have a wonderful week! (i don't have classes next monday and tuesday! yay! hopefully you have something fun planned too!)

**Monday.**

Hana is walking down the hallway towards the medbay when it happens.

It’s so small and simple, in retrospect – she’s already very sure that going into the medbay itself is out of question, given its resemblance to the room she had been kept in during her captivity, and 76 has explicitly told her that she’s almost certainly developed PTSD along with her extreme disassociation – which is the only reason she doesn’t see it coming. She’s already braced herself for the numbness, the times when she spaces out without realizing it, the things or words that might be triggering. She’s catalogued them, with 76 and Dr. Ziegler’s help, and now she’s just going to her first actual therapy visit thing with Dr. Ziegler and she’s going to be fine. She thinks so, anyway, until sunlight from the window blinds her temporarily and –

she’s back in Eichenwalde, sunlight dappling across the old, cracked stone and carpet of the castle, halls echoing with those left behind. The dread is all-at-once everlasting and all-consuming: _tragedy will happen here_ , she thinks feverishly, and she looks down at her hands to see a strip of clothing, and she’s staring at the blood running down an archer’s arm as she ties it up. Gunfire fills her ears, cacophonous, and then it stops and there’s a chill in her veins, a whisper, a promise –

_“I suppose you’ll be pleased to know that you have just doomed the entirety of your pitiful team, Hana Song – ”_

( _Come back,_ D.Va urges, _we’re not there, you’re safe, come back_ – )

Did the kind doctor make it out alive of the hospital? Hana never actually checked, and it makes her choke because that’s just one more life she’s chalked up to faith and hope, and how well did that work in Korea? Gunning down the protesters, staring up at the giant omnic in the sea and watching it throw Hyun’s mech into the sky until it landed in a skid on the ground, the boy unresponsive when she and her squadmates yelled for him in their comms; she’s shaking with fear when she’s sneaking through hallways with her damnably squeaky shoes, her blood chills and she’s seeing Talon’s insignia blaring in her mind’s eye, her ears fill with the sound of Reaper laughing as her heart kicks into overdrive. When has hope ever helped her? _Blood, killing, they’re dead because of you_.

  
[(click here for larger size)](https://68.media.tumblr.com/4e274b644dc40da2e97b377b80655fc0/tumblr_ojopi5lvQe1vib6w2o1_1280.png)

( _Come back,_ D.Va says again. _Hana, come back –_ ) and then she realizes that it’s not D.Va whispering in her ear, that there’s someone speaking to her, and with what feels like a mental snap – time resumes.

She’s standing in the hallway, the evening sun bathing her in a soft, warm glow. Her hands are twitching at her sides and with a start she realizes she’s staring right into Hanzo Shimada’s eyes; he’s crouched slightly so his gaze is at the same height as hers, and she drags in a deep breath and uses his steady stare to level herself, finding her bearings and collecting the shreds of her remaining dignity and composure.

“You are safe,” Hanzo says, and Hana’s exhale leaves her shaking. His hand hovers uncertainly over her shoulder; when she gives him a slight nod, it falls, grounding her much like 76 always makes sure to do. He lets the words settle into the silence, watching her carefully as she presses a hand against her chest and uses it to focus her breathing, not pain but pressure as if to keep everything _in_ , and then, softly and in perfect Korean with the barest hint of a Japanese accent, “ _Perhaps you would like some company on your way to Dr. Ziegler._ ”

It’s not phrased as a suggestion. Hana wouldn’t have refused it, anyway, and she hates how her voice audibly quivers as she agrees and he falls into step beside her, fingers pressing lightly into her skin as they start to walk. She focuses on the warmth and the weight and tries not to think about much of anything and maybe she fails, maybe she doesn’t, and she has to keep looking over her shoulder because what if, what if –

“ _I am sorry,_ ” he says eventually, still in Korean. At her quizzical look, he elaborates, “ _That you have to suffer through this._ ”

“ _It is all right_ ,” Hana says, because even though it’s something she shouldn’t have to get used to, she’s resigned herself to it.

“ _It’s not_ ,” he says, surprising her with how firm and sure he sounds; still, Hana doesn’t believe him, and she stays silent. After a few moments, he goes on, “ _You are young_. _Younger than I was when I first did something that left me empty and broken._ ”

“ _There is nothing poetic about this_ ,” Hana says, aiming for it to come out as a snap. It instead creeps out like a plaintive whine, likely because it’s in her mother tongue and it’s such a strange relief to be able to speak it freely with someone vis-à-vis.

“ _I did not mean to imply as such. Forgive me._ ” He hesitates before venturing, “ _It is more that I understand. Perhaps better than most._ ”

She turns her head to look at him. He meets her gaze steadily, even when she says, simply, “ _Why?_ ”

His posture changes slightly, a subtle shift that reveals more than he probably intends to. “ _Genji has not told you?_ ”

“ _I have not asked,_ ” Hana says. “ _What I do know are snippets. Pieces. You did something terrible, and your brother has forgiven you. That is enough for me._ ”

“ _You do not strike me as an individual who not would be satisfied with so little._ ”

“ _Do not claim to know me_ ,” Hana says, words echoing down the hallway.

“ _I do not_ ,” Hanzo agrees readily. He speaks the way he moves – graceful, fluid, serpentine. If he seeks to deceive her, he is doing very well, or perhaps Hana is too tired to parse his opaqueness. “ _A fact I seek to rectify, if you will let me._ ”

“ _Why?_ ” she asks again, less genuine and more accusatory.

She’s met with silence, and a quick glance at his face reveals a pensive expression; withdrawn, almost, forcibly neutral, a hint of something else lurking beneath.

“ _I am reminded of my brother when I see you,_ ” Hanzo says at last.

( _Ridiculous_ , D.Va snorts. _Genji is a puzzle who has pieced himself together._ )

( _There is nothing poetic about this_ , Hana reminds her, and D.Va lapses into silence; she’s right.)

“ _I am not something for you to use to atone_ ,” Hana says snappishly, connecting the dots far faster than he had expected, if the startled flash in his eyes is anything to go by.

“ _Allow me to finish._ ”

“ _If you cease speaking to me as if I am a child who knows little better, I might._ ”

“Hear me out, Hana,” he says, in English, and she does so, mulishly quiet; “I am reminded of my brother when I see you. I am reminded of myself when I see you. I am reminded of the cruelty this world often chooses to throw on those who do not deserve it.”

“You pity me, then,” Hana says in a growl.

“Quite the opposite; I admire you,” Hanzo says frankly, and – she’s not sure what to do with that, so she doesn’t say anything. Hanzo takes that as his cue to continue. “You hold a courage that I lack. You choose to fight even when the odds are impossible, and you have succeeded in life through what seems to be skill and sheer force of will. It is... commendable.”

“Commendable, he says,” Hana mutters, incredulous and yet more than sure that Hanzo is telling the truth. “I am more than a single word.”

“Indeed. It is true to say that I am not entirely sincere when I say I seek your friendship.” Hana sniffs. Hanzo merely delves onward. “I believe I can learn from you, if you would let me, and I would do what I can to teach you something as well.”

“What could you possibly offer me?”

“A peace of mind. A second ear.” A beat. “Archery lessons.”

It’s likely because Hana is in a sour mood that she wants to throw off the hand on her shoulder, but she knows that it’s better – she’s better – if it stays there; she needs something to keep her rooted, to keep her _here_ , and then she has to refocus and she catches the last bit of what he says: “Regardless, I leave the choice to you.”

The medbay draws closer as he falls silent. What’s left in the stillness is Hana’s fluttering heartbeat, her deep, forced breaths, and a decision.

( _He is approaching this as he would approach a deal_ , D.Va whispers; _he would not go back on his terms._ )

( _If there are terms, I will be the one making them_ , Hana thinks.)

( _He is nothing like his brother. He will be watching your every move. Do we need another shadow?_ )

( _A shadow who will watch my back_ , Hana responds. _He is concerned for my wellbeing. Isn’t it a goal to make friends with teammates?_ )

( _Is he?_ D.Va says, and then, _Perhaps so._ )

“Archery lessons,” she says, pulling back from her mental conversation, and Hanzo twitches, almost, as his head turns to look down at her. “Teach me to use a bow, teach me to sneak and climb as you do. In return, well.” She flashes him a small, brittle smile. “Perhaps we will be good friends, in time.”

“I cannot teach you everything about stealth, as it takes years to master,” Hanzo says, “But I appreciate this chance, and I will do what I can. Wait here.”

He knows already that Hana isn’t going to set foot in the medbay, she realizes distantly; he’s swept inside before she can say anything otherwise, and she shuffles some distance away from the door so she doesn’t have to look in as she waits for him to return with Dr. Ziegler in tow. She breathes out, quietly, and her heart finally stops its upbeat pace and listens to her lungs as she steadies herself, and then she’s calm and numb and she can hear the click of Dr. Ziegler’s heels, tailed, no doubt, by Hanzo’s silent footsteps.

“Good to see you, Hana,” Dr. Ziegler says warmly, just as the door opens, and the look on her face is serene, composed – sad, almost.

“ _Annyeong_ ,” she answers, casting Hanzo a fleeting glance. He meets her eyes for just a moment before gesturing with his hand, a sign she recognizes as _meet up later_ , one they taught her in the Korean military. It’s a little unnerving but ultimately reassuring, and she responds in kind before turning her full attention to the doctor, Hanzo retreating down the hallway towards destination unknown.

“Our first session will not be long,” Dr. Ziegler says; “I am not a trained psychologist, so it will be some time before I can talk to the right people to approach this correctly. As such, we will start slow. – And you can pick where you’d like us to settle and talk, of course.”

“Can I have people with me?” Hana asks, first and foremost.

“In later sessions, perhaps,” Dr. Ziegler says, which is a little disappointing but not entirely unexpected. “For this first session, at least, it will be just between us. Is there anywhere in particular you would like to talk, or shall we go to the lounge?”

Hana agrees on the latter, mostly because she would ideally have the talk in the kitchen but the kitchen is reserved for her and 76. The lounge will do in the meantime, and she swallows down the creeping sense of dread and discomfort as she follows the good doctor down the hallway whence she had come.

( _Hanzo is watching our back, one way or another,_ D.Va reminds Hana, and for all that she knows nothing about him, the thought is a comfort.)

* * *

**Tuesday.**

“So,” Winston says, and the conference room is so quiet Hana doesn’t realize she’s holding her breath until her chest feels tight.

Even then, Winston lets it drag on longer and longer, fixing almost every agent in the room – Tracer, McCree, Lúcio, Genji, Hanzo, herself  – with a single, hard stare. Only 76 is excluded given he wasn’t part of the original op, and, nevertheless, Hana can’t meet the gorilla’s eyes for very long. She finds herself wishing 76 was close enough to put his hand on her shoulder; he’s seated across from her, though, and when she ducks his head she feels his boot nudge against her foot. It’s better than nothing.

“A number of things to address,” Winston says, dropping files and a few holopads onto the table. “We’ll start with breaking protocol. Jesse, Lena, Hana, Lúcio, leaving base without my or Athena’s knowledge put your lives in incredible danger and resulted in Hana being captured by Talon forces. Additionally, you organized it by using Blackwatch channels and instructed Athena not to speak about it, again using Blackwatch commands to keep her from sharing information with me.”

Tracer bites her lip but says nothing. McCree is staring at his folded hands; further down the table, Hanzo and Genji exchange swift, quiet glances. Lúcio, in the seat next to her, shifts slightly, but doesn’t drop his gaze down like the other agents do. She can understand why, and she knows defiance is as much a part of him as music is, but right now it seems misplaced and risky.

“There is a reason I have not formed a Blackwatch division,” Winston says, disapproval emanating off of him in waves. Hana hunches her shoulders and tugs her sweater more tightly around her. “And there is a reason Blackwatch frequencies should not be used. We are doing things differently now, and I expect you all to at the part.”

“I’m not technically a part of this team, big guy,” McCree says, tilting his head back. “Neither is he or his brother or Seventy-six. Can’t really be put in the public eye, neither, not with the giant bounty on my head.”

“Nice excuse,” Winston says, and then he snaps, harsh and cutting, “However, you still almost got Hana killed.”

( _Blood, killing. They’re dead because of_ – )

( _No_ , D.Va says forcibly, 76 knocks his foot against hers, and Hana can breathe again.)

There’s nothing McCree can say to that. His facial expression cycles through shock, anger, realization, and then settles into something neutral, his body posture relaxed even though the tension is evident in the way he tips his hat down over his face.

“We are a team,” Winston says, balanced on all four legs so he towers over everyone seated. “The lack of communication on all of your parts was not only breaking our rules – it had devastating consequences. Talon got the better of you while your guard was down, and you should all have known better than to go without a word.”

“Reinhardt went on his own – ”

“Reinhardt cleared the trip with me beforehand and had arranged discreet transportation, as well as emergency protocols - protocols that failed when McCree transferred all communication to Blackwatch channels,” Winston says, cutting Tracer off before she can finish. “He also told me when Genji chose to accompany him, though Genji should have told me himself.” Genji says something quiet and apologetic in Japanese, not interrupting Winston’s flow. “Lena, you and Jesse were the ones who came up with this plan, and though I understand your motives behind it, the way you executed it was unacceptable. Because of that, you are both grounded for the foreseeable future.”

To their credit, neither McCree nor Tracer protest beyond a harsh frown and a pout, respectively. Winston narrows his eyes at both to drive his point home before turning to other members at the table.

“Genji, this applies to you as well. Your injuries need to be tended to, and you failed to mention your secondary motive for going to Eichenwalde to both Reinhardt and myself.”

“Understood,” Genji says with a dip of his head.

“Hanzo,” Winston says, and now his voice has lost some of his flintiness, “You’ve stated that you’re willing to help us out. If so, you’re expected to follow the same directives and stipulations as everyone else, and for the meantime, I would keep you off of active duty until you’ve had some time to settle in. If this is acceptable, you are a welcome addition.”

“I understand,” Hanzo says; “You have my bow.”

“Lúcio – ”

“Yeah, I know,” Lúcio cuts Winston off. “Shouldn’t have gone. Shouldn’t have listened. Whatever. I don’t care what I have to do as long as something like this – ” and here he glances over at Hana – “doesn’t happen again.”

“My feelings precisely,” Winston says with a grave nod. “You’ll remain stationed at base for now and only take part in combat missions if Angela specifically asks for you. We’d also like you to overwrite shackles in Athena’s programming that keeps her from telling us about Blackwatch activity.”

Lúcio gives him a curt nod. “You got it.”

Winston hesitates for just a split-second before looking towards Hana. She notices it only because she’s been trying to make herself smaller and smaller and hopefully more unnoticeable; no such luck, as Winston meets her gaze squarely and she’s unable to look away, hands clenched and shaking in her lap.

“Hana,” he says, and his voice is firm but there’s concern laced in there somewhere, “You’ll be off combat missions until Angela gives us the green light.”

She exhales, slowly, and nods. Lúcio reaches over and puts his hand over one of hers, carefully manipulating her injured fingers until they rest open and relaxed across his palm, and she focuses on his warmth and her breathing as she continues to stare Winston straight in the eye.

“You’re expected daily in the medbay, though I’m sure you are already aware of that,” Winston goes on. “Dr. Ziegler will give you more instructions as time goes on, and while you also disobeyed direct orders, it would be ignorant of me to overlook your courage in Egypt. Whenever Overwatch becomes official, you’ll always be one of us.”

Hana doesn’t say anything to that, eyes dropping to the table, largely because it doesn’t feel like much of a reward. She’s already taken part in ops and she’s killed, rescued, and bled for Overwatch; she knows she has their support, but making it official seems unnecessary when she’s already put in so much. In some ways, it’s no different from the Korean military; what has Overwatch done that has helped the world?

“Does everyone understand, or should I go over it again?” Winston asks, finally shifting his gaze away from Hana’s. She flexes her fingers, squeezing Lúcio’s hand with her own as she tries to steady her breathing now that the attention’s finally off of her, and 76 gently taps her shoe with his again. “Just to be clear, this means you are not to leave base - not even to go into town. You can travel around base freely, but Athena will be monitoring closely to make sure you don’t try to do any midnight escapades.”

“It was one time,” Tracer grumbles. Winston ignores her.

“If you’re all in agreement, you’re dismissed,” Winston says; and then, more heavily as everyone rises to their feet, “Never again, that’s all I ask.”

* * *

**Wednesday.**

“Ah, Hana,” Genji says when she walks into the room. He and McCree appear to be locked in a game of Mario Kart, and Genji is, of course, winning by a landslide. “Good to see you.”

“Howdy, darlin’,” McCree echoes, looking over his shoulder. Genji takes the opportunity to smack the cowboy’s character off-screen, but McCree is unfazed when he looks back and sees that he’s been knocked into last place, instead dropping the controller onto the coffee table in front of him and leaning back to stretch. “Nice shirt.”

Hana looks down. She hadn’t been paying much attention to what she’d put on this morning, and with a half-hearted chuckle she realizes she’s wearing a shirt that says _Up ‘Til Six, Asleep Past Noon._ “It is fourteen hundred hours,” she points out.

“It’s high noon somewhere out in the world,” McCree says as if quoting an old proverb, a small grin on his face. It fades when Hana doesn’t smile back, and then he sighs and hefts himself to his feet as Genji handily speeds past the coms in the game. “Speakin’ of which, I gotta go get checked out by Angel fer using Deadeye again. Good gettin’ destroyed by you as always, Genj.”

“Don’t forget to get medication for your migraines,” Genji calls after him as Hana picks her way over and plops down in the spot McCree had just vacated. It’s still warm as McCree calls back an affirmative, and she watches with a sense of detachment as the race ends and goes to standings, then picks up McCree’s controller as Genji and Hana pick their racers. From there it’s quick navigation to the race course selection screen, and Hana shakes her head when Genji checks to see if she has a preference for a map.

“Loser steals Jesse’s hat,” Genji says as the countdown ticks down.

“Fine,” Hana agrees, almost listless, and then the race begins.

She quickly finds that it’s hard to focus. It’s not that she ever needs to look down at her fingers, or that her hand-eye coordination is off – she’s just unable to get the turns she needs in order to really win against Genji, or maybe she’s just not really interested in trying to do them, she’s not sure – but whatever the case, Genji knocks her out of first place in less than a minute, and she doesn’t miss the way he snaps a quick glance towards her when it happens. She ignores it. She keeps ignoring them right up until her red shell lets her speed past a com, and then her fingers flare up in bright, burning pain and the controller clatters to the carpeted floor as she hisses, clutching her hand to her chest.

( _He’s not here_ , D.Va reassures, warmth suffusing the words, blanketing her. _You’re safe_.)

Genji pauses the game instantly and the holoprojector blinks off without him touching the remote, and then he’s taken her hand gently in his and she notes with detachment that one of her fingers is bleeding through the bandages again. She must’ve hit a scab on a joystick or something in her distraction; Dr. Ziegler’s reminder not to do so much with her hands echoes in the back of her skull, and she lets out a long sigh.

( _Scatterbrained,_ D.Va says; _not your fault._ More acidly, accompanied with a forced repression of a dark, rasping laugh: _His._ )

“I should have been more careful,” Genji says, mostly to himself as he flips his visor up to get a closer look; frustrated, if Hana’s reading into it right. “We need to wait for your fingernails to grow more before you should do anything like this. I am sorry.”

“It is not your fault,” Hana says, twitching her fingers slightly and grimacing at the pain that accompanies the motion. Genji lets her draw her hand, eyebrows furrowed as he watches her gently tap the fingertip of her bleeding index finger. “I forgot about it.”

The cyborg tilts his head at her. It’s moments like these that he’s most humanlike, Hana notes, as he says, “You forget that easily?”

“I try not to think too much,” Hana says without thinking, and then she immediately regrets her raw honesty. Genji is not 76, a friend but not trusted the same way, and knowing he could see such a side of her – she manages to muster a small smile instead. “That must sound weird to you.”

“Not at all,” Genji says, surprisingly serious. His eyes are steady on hers, unblinking in their focus, omnic in nature yet human in how they reflect the afternoon light. “You know what happened between me and Hanzo. I understand better than most people, I think.”

Curious; Hanzo had said the same thing. Perhaps both brothers were not as different as they thought, and her expression must give it away, because Genji sits back slightly, incredulity in his voice as he says, “You do not know?”

“I have not spoken to Hanzo much,” Hana admits, deciding to omit her conversation with him on Monday. “All I know is that Tracer has yet to stop avoiding him and McCree is still very cautious.”

“Yes, that does sound like them. – Don’t be afraid to ask me of something in the future.” Genji’s smile is barely visible under the base of his mask, and he says, “Hanzo tried to kill me.”

( _Blood, killing; they’re dead because of_ – )

( _Not your fault,_ D.Va interrupts, again. _His_.)

He makes it sound like he had just made a remark about the weather. Hana stares, unable to form words for a moment before they start bubbling up in Korean and she has to swallow them down. Genji’s expression remains entirely unchanged; amused, perhaps, maybe a bit flustered and embarrassed as he ducks his head, and then she repeats, in English, “Hanzo tried to kill you.”

“He would have succeeded if not for Angela,” Genji tells her.

Hana is struck with sudden clarity about Hanzo’s talk with her earlier that week: like Genji, he thought he could understand her on a base level, more than others. It’s little wonder he sees something in her that he wants to replicate – despite all odds, she hadn’t once turned back on her ideals and morals, but Hanzo had, and he sought something in her psyche to tell him why. She isn’t sure if he would find an answer, and even more importantly, she knows he will never really discover why Genji has forgiven him. She doesn’t think she will, either, as she repeats, “He tried to kill you and yet you both act like children together anyway.”

“We are brothers,” Genji says quite plainly, which explains nothing, and he elaborates, “It was not easy, of course. When I first met him in this form, he did not believe it was me, for good reason. That was over a year ago in Hanamura.”

“Hanamura?” Hana says, a little surprised. “I was there a few months ago. That is where Seventy-six found me.”

“Really?” Genji says, eyes widening. She’s heard from both Tracer and McCree that Genji used to sleep around, before he became what he is now; she can see it in the way he looks at people, intense and as if there is no one else but them. It’s more intimidating than anything, what with the omnic augmentations in him that allow him to do so unblinkingly. “You never did tell me how the two of you met.”

“It is not a long story.”

“I wouldn’t mind hearing it.”

“Tell me about Hanzo first.”

And so Genji does.

The story is lengthy, if only because Genji first lays down the foundation for what ultimately occurred – “the day I died,” he calls it, to which Hana shudders and he backtracks immediately, sensing his mistake – and then afterwards, the bildungsroman of how he became who he is today, copious mentions of Zenyatta and finding harmony in disorder. It’s inspiring and overwhelming and peculiar and odd, at least to Hana, because Genji is so many juxtapositions at once. It’s incredible he is so functional.

“It was only after all of this that I decided to confront Hanzo personally,” Genji tells Hana eventually. “He always made the pilgrimage back to the Shimada estate once a year, on the day he... on the day I was brought to Overwatch. Burned incense and meditated. Old-school, like he always is.” He sounds fond.

“I am guessing it did not end well,” Hana says, because this is Overwatch and nothing ever ends well.

“He thought I was there to kill him,” Genji says, “Which isn’t completely surprising, considering I had been a major component in taking down our family in the first place. – Regardless, he attacked me, I defended myself, and it was when I had him at my mercy did I have an opportunity to explain. He did not believe it was me.”

“Not entirely surprising.”

“I was disappointed, to be honest,” Genji says with a laugh. “My own ignorance, of course. It is jarring to see someone you thought was dead come back to life, and my execution of reaching out to him was indelicate at best.”

The thought of Genji doing anything delicately would make Hana laugh if she hadn’t seen the way he interacted with Zenyatta. “What happened afterwards?”

Nothing much, as it turned out. Genji followed Hanzo around for a nearly a year, continually making contact, oftentimes with Zenyatta at his side. It would be months before Hanzo stopped attacking him on sight, a few more before Hanzo actually spoke with him – but then mere days, weeks, and then Genji shrugs and says, “I guess he finally decided I was his little brother after all. I suppose it isn’t hard to recognize me, though.”

She gives him a look, purposefully shifting her eyes to his omnic body before looking to his face. Genji has the grace to shift, though the grin on his face is nothing but shit-eating. “Why?”

“He tells me I have changed so much, yet very little. I am not entirely sure what he means by that,” Genji says, before saying thoughtfully, “Though he does say I have the same fighting style as I always have, complete with a twitch before I take my sword out to deflect. Something like that. He’s very cryptic, you’ll find.”

 _Not at all,_ Hana thinks; she and Genji are friends, sure, but she and Hanzo are far more similar than she had anticipated. “That is quite the tale.”

“Spanning over many years, of course,” Genji says, smile dampening into something less bright but no less happy, “And not including my time in Blackwatch. Most of those stories are not something I would share with anyone, to be honest.” He’s quiet for a few moments. Hana lets him be, watching his eyes blink slowly as he goes through his thoughts, and then he’s glancing up again with a devilish smile on what she can see of his lips. “Tell me about Jack.”

It’s strange to see Genji like this, Hana thinks; open and vulnerable, his face laced and crisscrossed with scars and marks and flecks. He’s bared his life story and his scars to her without so much as a blink out of place, and suddenly she’s struck with the idea that Genji may be just as clever as Hanzo, albeit in a different way. She would have to pay more attention to her words and actions in the future; he has likely been reading her just as closely as his brother, noting every hesitance, coaxing her out of her shell with the same amount of effort as breathing.

( _They are your friends_ , D.Va says, _you do not need to be cautious._ )

(Hana can’t help it, these days. Dr. Ziegler’s told her paranoia is a symptom of PTSD, but even then, it’s no easier to keep in check.)

“We were in Hanamura partly to investigate your brother, actually,” Hana says, and then amends, “My MEKA squad and myself. Seventy-six was there because of Overwatch rumors. That is the other part we were investigating.”

“Hanzo did mention that he had extra difficulty moving through Hanamura during that time,” Genji says. “I did not realize South Korea had an interest in Japanese affairs.”

“I did not, either,” Hana says with a grimace. “I still do not know why we were there. All I know is that we were ordered to go and that we would be stationed there for some time.”

“Military,” Genji says with a shake of his head, grinning, though it fades when Hana doesn’t smile back, and he moves on quickly enough. “And, what, Jack spirited you away?”

“I was curious about Overwatch,” Hana says. “I – I think I wanted to leave parts of my history behind, too.”

She doesn’t elaborate. Thankfully, Genji doesn’t pry. “Interesting,” he says instead. “A few words from Jack and you followed him just like that. Seems he hasn’t changed much.”

“It is more complicated than that, but essentially.”

“That much is clear,” Genji agrees, and his expression is a mix between bewildered and amused as he says, almost as if it might be a secret, “He dotes on you. It’s adorable.”

“Thanks,” she grouses, because being reduced to an object in relation to someone else is always fun and happens almost constantly in her life. There’s a reason she never searches her name online, and her relationship with 76 is much more complicated and fulfilling than what Genji has effectively reduced it to.

“It’s good, really,” Genji says, half-wistful, half-serious. “I never ran into him while he was doing his vigilante thing, but – I think you are more than an integral part of Overwatch, Hana. One way or another, you are bringing us all together.”

( _Do not listen to him_ , D.Va urges immediately.)

( _What makes you think I wanted that?_ she thinks, small and vulnerable. She made friends in order to bond with her team, not to – not to fix cracks in friendships, not to help others cope, she has enough trouble keeping herself safe, _he means well but he can’t know how much that hurts._ )

“That was not the right thing to say,” Genji says, and Hana realizes with a start everything must have been showing on her face – that she’s giving him a deer-in-the-headlights look, and his expression softens. “I forget, sometimes, that I know you well through your streams – but in reality, I do not know you nearly as well as I think I do.”

“It’s okay,” she says on autopilot.

“It’s not,” Genji says, echoing Hanzo’s words, and it’s only now that she’s hearing them again that she begins to wonder if they actually do hold some weight.

* * *

**Thursday.**

_Hello, everyone!_

_I’ve been getting a lot of questions of why I haven’t been streaming at all this week, and the simple answer is this!_

_[Uploaded [OwMyHand.png]]_

_[PHOTO DESCRIPTION: MY HANDS, BANDAGED. BECAUSE I GOT HURT AND IT SUCKS.]_

_I had a little bit of a run-in with some unpleasant people the other day, which ended up with me getting my fingers hurt. It’s not as bad as it looks, but right now, it’s very painful to play_ Starcraft. _It actually hurts a bit to type this up! So because of those unpleasant people, I haven’t been able to play any games or do anything that involves my hands, really. Even eating with chopsticks has gotten a bit out of hand (haha, get it?)._

_I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting all of you lovely people, and I promise I’ll get back into the swing of things as soon as my fingers have healed up a bit more. Until then, I appreciate your patience, and thanks for supporting me even when it’s been a little chaotic on my end. Game on and talk to you all soon!_

_Love,  
D.Va ;)_

* * *

**Friday.**

“ – _and in yet another attack made by the infamous Junker duo, priceless artifacts from the National Commission for Museums and Monuments in Lagos, Nigeria, have been stolen or destroyed. The duo is known for their indiscriminate use of explosives and complete disregard for any innocents caught in the crossfire. The full extent of damage is  still unknown and the death count continues to rise –_ ”

“Pause that,” 76 says, “Right there,” and Athena complies, freezing the frame where the earnest news anchor is staring right at his viewers, eyes wide. It’s footage from a cell phone, shaky and filled with loud noises and fire, and Hana is unable to look away from the ecstatic face of a young, lanky man, lips pulled back to show a wide smile. Behind him there is a monster, a figure of giant proportions and a jagged metal hook and a gas mask that hides his entire face. “Zoom in on the demolition expert’s harness, to the left.”

When Athena does so, they see what 76 had noticed: the Talon insignia, small and inconspicuous, neatly embroidered across the straps holding bombs close to the man’s chest.

( _Demolitions expert_ , D.Va murmurs. _Accurate, but unorthodox._ Hana appreciates the distraction.)

No one says anything for a moment. When someone does speak, Hana is surprised to hear Satya’s voice, cool and even.

“His name is Jamison Fawkes,” the architech says, sweeping long hair over her shoulder. Her eyes are narrowed slightly, focused entirely on the picture projected before them. “His companion is Mako Rutledge. Vishkar has been investigating them for the past year, ever since they began their rampage across the globe.”

“That’s more intel than international authorities have,” Winston says, squinting as he surveys Satya from head to toe. “Why hasn’t Vishkar shared this knowledge?”

“I have broken several rules just by speaking of it,” Satya says, her voice temporarily losing its confidence, just for a flicker of a moment, before she goes on, “From what I understand, it is deemed an internal affair, given how they have caused damages to many areas of Vishkar redevelopment.” Lúcio scoffs, mutters _serves you right_ ; Satya ignores him. “They are mercenaries, selling their services to the highest bidder. It would be possible to ensure they do not cause us trouble if Overwatch hired them out instead.”

“That is going to be a lot of money,” Winston murmurs, though Hana can tell he’s already turning the option over in his mind. “I can’t imagine fighting them would be a walk in the park, however, otherwise Talon wouldn’t have hired them.”

Satya nods once, stiffly, and Hana watches as she folds her hands across her lap, eyes drifting down towards the surface of the table. Discussion springs up around her, but the architech apparently has nothing else to add – and Hana wonders just how much breaking Vishkar’s rules has rattled her.

* * *

**Saturday.**

Hana spends her entire day restless and exhausted and numb. Sessions early in the morning with Dr. Ziegler tend to leave her like that, and it was with no small sense of relief that 76 eventually finds her aimlessly wandering around and drags her outside to a quiet perch. It’s a balcony of sorts, right outside one of the training ranges, and it’s clear it is a typical spot to rest due to pillows being scattered about in the corner. 76 settles her inside a pile of them before seating himself beside her, and she curls up against him and focuses hard on her heartbeat, steady and regular, hands held loosely in front of her and aching with a dull, pulsing pain.

She should’ve asked for painkillers. In all the rush, she’d forgotten, or maybe Dr. Ziegler had offered and Hana had said no. She doesn’t remember. Or maybe she does, but she’s trying her hardest not to remember anything right now, and so she stares at the sunlight reflecting off of the ocean’s waves and nudges her mind elsewhere.

( _Better check_ Starcraft _stats,_ D.Va muses. _Gotta make sure we’re still up top._ )

Hana lets out an exhale through her nose, just a hint of a laugh, and leaves it at that. She’s not rusty, but even a few days off can be disastrous and her hands have gotten much better since her Thursday blog post. She’d stream herself tomorrow and see if some of her competitors would be willing to have a go at her. Generally, they don’t because they get crushed every time, but if she uses the ‘I haven’t played in a couple of days’ card... But her best competitors are in Korea right now, training and waiting until the giant omnic in the sea showed its head, and the timezones would be a disaster. Not to mention the ping. She couldn’t – she can’t –

 _Stop_ , she thinks.

( _You’re fine_ , D.Va says, and no, she’s not, but D.Va knows it’s a lie so Hana doesn’t bother correcting her.)

“Hana,” 76 says, pulling her back into the present; he’s been watching her, as best as his pale blue eyes can watch her without his visor, and her eyes lift to settle on his face. He’d detected her lapse in attention, it seems, though his expression is neutral as he nudges his shoulder against her frame. “Feeling better?”

“A little,” she says honestly. She’s tired, mostly, but sleeping is out of question, not with rehashed memories so close to the surface. Instead she says, “Tell me a story.”

He acquiesces with a nod. “What kind?”

“Anything.”

For 76, this means a story about Overwatch, since he’s not a great storyteller and it’s all he’s ever known, in the end. Hana knows this. He knows this, and he lets it pass and settles back against the wall they are leaning against.

“Angela and Jesse hated each other’s guts, back in the day,” he says after a moment, clearly resisting the fond smile tugging insistently at his lips. Hana watches his face for a few moments before letting her eyes rest and drop towards the floor, clean and smooth. Athena and her bots’ handiwork, no doubt. “First time they met, Jesse said something belittling her intelligence, maybe. Angela responded about how he was a little young to be felon. Kind of snowballed from there.”

“Angela has not changed much, I am guessing,” Hana says.

“She’s much more contained nowadays. Hard to get a read on her.” 76 shrugs; that’s apparently all he has to say on the subject. “Anyway, if they were on base together, you couldn’t go an hour without one of them shouting at the other. Ana got so tired of refereeing she eventually just shot them both with a sleep dart to shut them up.”

“Is that where she picked up the habit?”

“Oh. Yeah,” 76 says, and it’s obvious he’s remembering the whole Ana reintroduction before everything in Egypt and Eichenwalde went down, given how he quickly steers the conversation away. “They grew out of it eventually, though. You’ve noticed that Jesse only ever calls her Angel, I’m sure.”

“Yes.”

“Think it came about on one of the missions they had together for some reason. She’d just begun testing her Valkyrie suit, first time she was using it in the field. Jesse got shot a few times and was bleeding out on the ground, and when she flew over to him, he was incoherent enough to think she was an angel. Hasn’t called her anything else since.”

Hana hums at that. “Dr. Ziegler probably did not like that.”

“Not at first, but she never stopped him, so I suppose it grew on her. Think it was supposed to be an inside joke at her expense, but given how many times she was saving his life, maybe it wasn’t much of an exaggeration.” The fond smile is now fully present on his face, eyes half-lidded as he stares into the horizon. “Turning point of their friendship, I think. Jesse used to complain constantly every time Angela was the one taking a look at him, mostly because she was the best and Blackwatch agents tended to get the worst injuries. After that, though, he’d ask for her specifically.”

“The old Overwatch and Blackwatch sound fun.”

“Some parts of it were,” 76 admits, and then, more quietly, “Still not entirely sure Overwatch right now is a good idea, but at least I’m here to keep an eye out.”

She huffs a laugh – that was entirely typical of 76, and of Jack, she’s beginning to learn. “And do what?”

“Grab you and run for it if everything goes wrong?” he says dryly, and then, at her chuckle, he says, “Someone’s gotta lead the combat missions, and until I can train someone, the duty falls to me. Might as well see it through.”

Hana knows it’s more than just that, but 76 has told her more than ever before and she’s not about to push. Instead she brings her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them, shifting until her back is pressed against 76’s arm, tucking her chin between her knees and trying to imagine what Overwatch used to be like. More agents, for one; more workers to keep things running smoothly, too, though she imagines Athena is able to do the same thing using bots and parts of her processing runtimes. If Overwatch ever became legal, perhaps Hana would be able to see what history books lauded. Perhaps.

“Hana.”

“Hm.”

“Mind if I ask you something?”

Interesting that he asks permission. Even Genji went ahead and poked around until finding something he shouldn’t have touched before retreating as fast as he could. In any case, she nods, marginally. She knows he’ll feel it, and indeed he does as he presses on, “You ever regret going pro as a gamer?”

( _A loaded question_ , D.Va murmurs _._ )

Hana thinks of home; of emptiness, of stillness, of cold.  ( _No_ , she whispers, _it is an easy answer:_ _it was an escape_. _Nothing more, nothing less._ )

( _As if he’d understand._ )

( _A crayfish sides with a crab,_ Hana says softly.)

(D.Va is silent for a moment. _Lying is also a means_ , she says at last, and Hana exhales slowly.)

“It hardly matters,” Hana says after a beat; “It is done. I am here. I do what I must.”

76 sighs. Hana is immediately on edge, slightly – she’d said something wrong, or at least 76 had looked right through her. Not that that is surprising. She’s good at deceiving others, but 76 knows her tells just as she knows his.

“You enjoy video games,” he says, tilting his head back so it rests against the wall. “That much is obvious. You’re reigning champion in whatever that one game is called – ” he chuckles lightly when she mutters _Starcraft_ under her breath – “and it’s clear you’ve put a lot of time into it. With all that in mind, I don’t see how you could regret it.” Hana furrows her brow, hearing the unspoken _but_ , holding carefully still when he pauses; she exhales slowly when he finishes, “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess. I’m sorry you had to get involved between me and Gabe. And I’m sorry that – you got hurt because of it.”

It’s a long, long time before Hana can feel her blood rushing through her veins, reminding her that she’s alive; that she can feel her lungs compress, decompress, air whooshing in and out and keeping her heart pumping. _He thinks it’s his fault_ , she thinks, almost dizzy, and the situation almost makes her want to laugh because he’s right, it is, but – but it also –

“I forgive you,” she says, watching his shoulders hitch at her words. “For everything. It is not your fault that I ended up this way, in the end.”

His neutral tone sounds forced as he says, “Meaning?”

She wiggles a hand free and makes a vague motion at nothing in particular. 76 waits for her to figure out what she wants to say, for her brain to translate the Korean mess that are her feelings into the language he can understand.

“Broken,” she decides on at last; “I was broken long before I met you.”

( _Take the shot_ , her handler says, and so she does, and she sees the blood and smells something awful and _take the shot_ , her handler says, and she does it again, and she thinks Si-yeon is retching a few feet away and _take the shot_ , her handler says, and this time she doesn’t take her finger off of the trigger.)

(She grows numb, after a while. It’s just a game, isn’t it? Even if Hyun never did make it back home, right?)

76 lets out a low hum at that. For a moment, nothing is said, his warmth pressed against her spine, his presence more reassuring than anything else; the silence is filled with waves cresting and falling on the shore, wind slithering through her hair, her heartbeat whispering in her ears. It’s calming and infinitesimal, and she relishes the sense of peace it brings her.

“This is about D.Va, isn’t it?” he asks.

( _So limited in scope_ , D.Va says.)

“Yes,” Hana says. Amends, “Kind of. It is – everything. You know I was underage when I was drafted.”

“I do.”

“My father pulled strings to get me in sooner,” Hana says, and the words come out matter-of-fact. “He was offered many incentives and benefits by the military. All of the MEKA operators’ parents were. Some of us were as young as thirteen, and they lied about our ages to the press or did not reveal our presence in their ranks until we turned eighteen.” _If they lived to be eighteen_ , she adds silently, and she thinks he picks up on it.

76 says nothing. He’s grown tense, though, and Hana pretends not to notice.

“The situation was desperate, at the time,” she goes on, flipping through the facts and ignoring the memories; “Thousands dead because of the omnic in the sea, because of its control over omnics on land, because of the way it could wipe out cities in a heartbeat. Human supporters who believed the hacked omnics could be saved were slaughtered with them – the first time I really killed, I guess. I do not know. It seemed like a game at the time.” She hesitates, murmurs, “The destruction at Eichenwalde reminded me of home.”

“You’re not shitting me right now,” 76 says, a statement more than a question, and his voice is tight and taut, like a string about to snap.

She nods, and then reassures him, “D.Va has been with me far longer than you have known me. What happened with – _him_ was your fault, but how I became the person I am today was not.”

“Hana – ”

“I forgive you, because you couldn’t have known this would have happened,” Hana says, staring down at her bandaged fingers; a reminder, a warning. “You need not apologize for what came before.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. Hana doesn’t expect him to, settling back into her balled-up form, and she rocks slightly back and forth as she lets her mind wander, away from what used to be and towards what is. She should really see if some of her MEKA squad would be willing to speak with her; if nothing else, she needs the blueprints for her mech at the most basic level, and it would do her well to play a few rounds of _Starcraft_ with them. The distraction would be a welcome one.

( _It is important to make friends and more important to keep them_ , D.Va agrees.)

“Your father made you enlist early?” 76 asks at last, and – and _oh._ She should’ve known he would focus on that, and the fact he does is, in its own inexplicable way, endlessly reassuring.

“Yes,” Hana says. “It was for the best, in his mind. I spent all of my time on _Starcraft_. I did not excel in school because I had no time to do homework, not when I was constantly practicing for upcoming tournaments.” She shrugs. “I would be doing good for my country while doing something I loved. At the time, I also thought it would be a good fit.”

For a long moment, 76 merely stares at her; she can feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of her skull. After a second or two of it, she turns to look at him, too, meeting his eyes and gauging his reaction.

“Do you regret going pro as a gamer?” he asks at last.

( _A loaded question_ , D.Va whispers.)

“Yes,” Hana says; amends, “A little,” and she knows it’s the truth.

* * *

**Sunday.**

“All right, everyone. I know it’s rather early in the morning – ” and Winston sighs when Tracer yawns loudly and overdramatically, though the entirety of the conference room appears ready to follow her lead – “but considering she’s just arrived, we’ll make an exception. Team, this is Fareeha Amari, call sign Pharah.”

The woman who stands at the front of the room is tall, poised, beautiful. Hana watches her snap off a crisp, parade ground salute, dressed in comfy-casual clothes that allow her a wide degree of movement. Her shoulders are back, her stance wide, her chin lifted, eyes sweeping across those seated in the conference room’s table; it’s obvious she’s military, through and through, and Hana drops her eyes to her lap, reaching over to grasp 76’s jacket lightly between her fingers.

She’s not the only one intimidated. Nearby, Ana is watching her daughter with an almost hawklike look to her sharp face, as if unsure of who she is or how to approach her. Hana doesn’t spend too long looking, though, because Ana doesn’t miss much of anything and she certainly wouldn’t appreciate Hana noticing her hesitance, and that’s when 76 reaches over and covers Hana’s fingers lightly with his.

“Helix has been kind enough to grant me some leave to see what Overwatch is all about,” Pharah explains before Winston can continue his introduction. Her smile is straight and white and her eyeliner is perfectly winged. “I look forward to serving with you.”

“Fareeha’s greatest asset is her aerial mobility,” Winston says with a nod to the woman. She cedes the floor with a slight bend of her waist, and Winston goes on, “Helix has also been generous enough to grant her access to her Raptora suit, which means we’ll be able to see that benefit in the field. Additionally, Helix is grateful for the assist in rooting out a Talon cell in their own backyard, so they have pledged funding and supplies to Overwatch.”

“My superiors have also begun lobbying for the repeal of the Petras Act,” Pharah adds. “From what I understand, the U.N. is set to vote on the matter in a number of weeks. Perhaps we will be able to help sway their opinion.”

“After this, I promise we can all go and eat breakfast,” Winston says, and everyone gives him a suspicious look until he says, “And by this, I mean introductions. We’ll just go around the table, nothing fancy.”

“Name and call sign if you’ve got one at the very least,” McCree says before the anyone can start. Winston gives him a Look and McCree shrugs, unapologetic.

“Fareeha Amari, Pharah,” Pharah answers, giving McCree a close-lipped smile as if suppressing amusement. From appearances, it seems that the two know each other, especially when McCree gives the woman a cheeky wave.

“Lena Oxton, Tracer,” Tracer says, grinning as she flicks off a much more casual salute.

It goes around the table after that. Hana watches Pharah’s eyes fall upon her mother and refuse to move away when it’s Ana’s turn, and Hana gets the sense she should probably make herself scarce as soon as the meeting is adjourned; it’s likely the reunion that has been a long time coming will become rather heartfelt.

“Hana Song, D.Va,” she says dutifully when her turn comes around.

76 doesn’t say anything right away, doing the thing where he thinks about too many things at once, and Hana can visibly see when he decides _fuck it_ and says, “Jack Morrison, Soldier: 76,” and Pharah’s head whips around so quickly Hana thinks she might have snapped her own neck. Her mouth is ajar and she casts her mother what appears to be an accusatory glance, to which Ana shrugs, and then Hanzo finishes up with his name and Winston calls for the end of the meeting and Hana gets to her feet.

“Breakfast, then practice range,” she tells 76, eyeing the way Pharah is watching 76 as Ana pats Reinhardt’s arm before she pushes past to talk to her daughter.

“Good idea,” 76 says, not at all missing what Hana is trying to accomplish, and she’s thankful for that small mercy, at least: that she and 76 can still read each other without speaking, and so she hooks her hand through his elbow and lets companionable silence fall as they begin the short trek back towards the mess hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **korean**  
>  "A crayfish sides with a crab" - used to describe how people with similar traits and backgrounds tend to stick together and side with each other.  
> "Lying is also a means" - used to suggest that lying could be a solution to a problem. Closest English equivalent: ends justify the means.
> 
> in any case, ok! we're done with operation: reaper is an asshat. time to move on to publicity stunts, actual mission stuff, #lethanarest, and by golly where are zarya and mei and will the junkers be here soon?? very rude of them to take so long.
> 
> i had a lot of fun writing the shimada bros bonding(??) with hana, largely because hanzo is such a hard character to pin down. hopefully i can get something up eventually where hana talks to everyone in overwatch one-on-one at least once, though! like, seriously, i couldn't even really sneak lúcio into this chapter and it's _lúcio_ so that's a crime against humanity.
> 
>  **EDIT** : the illustration you saw near the beginning of the chapter was drawn by the lovely [batoid](http://batoidzmistake.tumblr.com/)! i've provided a link to their art blog; do check it out! <3
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- you can make 76 instantly nostalgic by playing certain tunes. lúcio discovers this by accident when he's sampling from some oldie band to use in a remix and 76 wanders into the room, names the band, and then asks lúcio what he was going to do with it. when lúcio tells him, 76 requests a copy before wandering out. despite there being a physical copy of this [articular remixed song in 76's room, no one believes lúcio when he tells people about it and 76 acts none the wiser  
> \- ana and pharah get along much like best friends would. ironically, being separated from each other for so long helped them see the similarities in each other, and in doing so, they understand each other's motives much better. thus: pharah never pranks people, but if ana's off doing something that may be a bit, you know, whatever, you can bet pharah's watching her back or at least covering for her.  
> \- bastion, at some point, requests to have a birdfeeder built into one of its shoulders. it's a bit of a problem on recon missions because birds keep coming to it, but no one has the heart to tell it no.  
> \- "ganymede needs friends!" bastion tells zenyatta, who tells everyone else  
> \- no one can say no to that  
> \- genji and mccree have a longstanding tradition of doing things together where one excels and the other doesn't. for genji, this means video games and bladed weapons. for mccree, it involves anything with firearms or cooking, because while mccree isn't the greatest cook ever, genji is a walking disaster  
> \- hana and tracer probably go jogging together sometimes, though tracer, of course, runs laps around hana. they usually gossip. sometimes they don't even go jogging, they just say they're going jogging and then hang out in one of their rooms and talk shit about everyone.  
> \- hanzo and torbjörn do not get along simply by virtue of their respective weapons. hanzo finds torbjörn's... gun... thing to be crude, unnecessarily dangerous, and unwieldy; torbjörn just gestures to hanzo's bow and yells "you're one to talk" and then reinhardt or genji (or both) have to come to drag them apart because they can both argue for hours  
> \- mercy and winston like pumpkin spice lattes. it's a well-known secret that if you need to bribe the good doctor, you either bring her swiss chocolates, do not get injured for at least a week or more, or procure PSL. (extra kudos if it's not fall.) winston only got hooked because tracer bought it for him as a joke and it was the only coffee-type thing that had coffee in it that didn't taste totally disgusting  
> \- reaper doesn't need sustenance beyond people's souls, but eating food can stave off the need to kill people. it's mostly that the nanobots in his body need calories (read: energy) in order to function, so while he can go numerous days without eating, constantly going incorporeal and back means he needs to eat stuff. otherwise - well, even he doesn't know what might happen otherwise.  
> \- reinhardt and symmetra become very good friends as time passes, if only because symmetra is able to craft parts for his armor, should they break, in the heat of battle. when she works up the courage to ask how his barrier shield words, she's soon able to make smaller versions of them to further improve her proton shielding abilities. (reinhardt is so proud. torbjörn is just offended and insists on teaching symmetra on how to _properly_ make pieces of reinhardt's armor)  
>  \- widowmaker and zenyatta would be pals, largely because zenyatta would be the only one to see how widowmaker would never really become who she was before - for better or for worse, talon had changed her, and very few seem to understand that


	62. knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana doesn't go to Russia. Instead, she plays card games, among other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! happy wednesday!
> 
> many thanks to my betas/cheer-readers: slimy-hipster, roguevector, costumebleh. i very much appreciate the help!
> 
> i hope today was wonderful and i hope your week is fantastic! i'm rooting for you, wherever you are and whatever you're doing c:

It’s almost certainly because of 76 that Hana has slowly become a morning person – or, at least, she isn’t grouching nearly as much as she should when someone knocks on her door at nine hundred hours. That might also have to do with her recently-developed inability to sleep for long bursts of time, but she’s not going to split hairs as she shoves her feet into her bunny slippers and pads over to the door, gently rubbing the sand from her eyes as she opens it.

Naturally, it’s 76, in full uniform. Actual uniform this time, official Overwatch wear, which means black BDUs, wide swaths of deep blue cresting over his shoulders and in straight lines down the sides of his pants, boots, gloves, all of it relatively skintight to ensure his body armor doesn’t strangle him to death. On the left shoulder is the emblem of the Overwatch of old, and Hana blinks at the whole getup for a second or two before looking up to meet his eyes.

“Are we official now?” she asks, trailing off at the end to hide a yawn behind her hand.

“Seems so,” 76 says, giving a quick glance down to the white-and-gold symbol emblazoned on his shoulder. His visor is off, so she’s able to see his lightning-quick grimace before it’s gone and he’s looking at her again. “Just wanted to drop by quickly, give you a heads-up. We’re going off to Saint Petersburg for a few days. You’ll be fine on your own?”

Hana holds his gaze, feeling the uncertainty play across her face. Once upon a time she would have scoffed and told him that she wasn’t a child, but after everything that’s happened, she’s not sure if that would be a fair and accurate response. Certainly she’s not a kid, but while she could function easily enough on her own, she knows already that doing so could jeopardize her health; whether she likes it or not, she needs to rely on others, and 76 knows that he is one of her most important anchors. The idea of being separated from him makes her stomach clench – but it would be unfair to keep back Overwatch’s only experienced combat leader because of her. She knows it, and so does he.

“I will keep myself occupied,” she replies, shrugging slightly. She’s simultaneously too tired and too awake to really think everything through. “You should focus on the mission. I will be fine.”

“Comm me if you need to. Anytime. For anything.”

And that, more than anything, feels like a sucker punch to the gut and a heavy hand on her shoulder at the same time. No one has her back like 76 is watching hers, and it hits her that not being able to find him at any point in time, even late at night, is going to be _hard_ but she’s going to have to manage. She can manage. She managed before she met him, after all, but her reliance on him wore away at her resolve to handle things alone and only alone and she can’t even find it in herself to be ashamed of her feebleness, not when she’s felt so much more composed and calm and centered since she’s come to terms with the simple fact that _needing help isn’t weak_.

She holds back a waterfall of Korean by biting her lip and instead nods, once, firmly, and when she raises her arms to him he’s quick to hug her back. And if she holds on for a bit longer and a bit tighter than usual, well, no one can blame her, and it’s with a tinge of fear and much reluctance that she releases him and steps back, sniffing once as he clicks his visor into place. Separation shouldn’t affect her this much, but – she’s always been like this, really, even back in Korea. _Too soft, too empathetic_ , her handler would tell her; _let go, don’t think. It’s just a game. You show no mercy in_ Starcraft _, do the same here, it’s the same thing_ , and she’s glad that she never listened.

“Come back safe,” she tells him.

“Don’t be afraid to reach out,” 76 replies, reaching over to fix her pajama shirt; the collar is half popped, half not, and he creases it until both sides match. “Angela won’t be here, but Lúcio and Genji will be. Hanzo, too.”

The fact that he’s noticed that she’s built friendships with these people is weird in the way that it’s – it’s that most authority figures in her life tend to not give a shit about what she does in her free time. He’s acting like a father would act, and the thought makes her smile despite her uneasiness. “I know. I will be... watchful, of my condition. I will comm you if it gets really bad.”

“Good.” A beat. “Take care of yourself, Hana.”

She snaps a salute off to him just for kicks and giggles, earning her a chuckle as 76 nods once at her, pivots on his heel, and walks down the length of the hallway and turn the corner. She’s not sure what could possibly be in St. Petersburg to warrant a full-blown operation with 76 at the head, but she suspects she’ll find out in due time as she closes the door to her room and resigns herself to getting dressed. Usually the act of doing so gets the ball rolling and she manages to get out and actually eat something, but then again, nothing’s ever a guarantee.

( _You have to figure out what’s in Saint Petersburg_ , D.Va reminds her, and so Hana pulls on a pair of jeans and a bra and a shirt and brushes her hair and even applies basic makeup.)

The mess hall is relatively empty – most of the base is either already working or still sleeping at this point – but Hanzo is seated at one of the tables, silently eating the last of what appears to be some kind of soup from a bowl as McCree reclines across from him, flicking through a datapad. They appear to be ignoring each other, though she feels that that could be better accomplished if they were not sitting so close, and when she walks by, both immediately glance over as if grateful for the distraction.

“Good morning,” she says, slightly quizzical, and McCree, at least, looks slightly embarrassed. Hanzo is as inscrutable as ever, and she peeks over McCree’s shoulder to see he’s reading something related to Sydney, Australia. She assesses the situation, briefly, and decides not to address the elephant in the room. “Are there still leftover noodles in the refrigerator?”

“Yes,” Hanzo says, and then, “I will come with you,” as he gets to his feet, bowl empty. McCree murmurs what could have been a pleasantry, intent on his datapad, and together Hana and Hanzo leave him to it, her matching her steps to Hanzo so he is the first into the kitchen. She’s starting to get a sense of what the whole situation back there had been, given the slight slump of Hanzo’s shoulders as soon as he is out of McCree’s line of sight, and the thought makes her grin.

“Genji put you up to it, I am guessing,” she says, opening the fridge to fish through it. Per Hanzo’s word, there is a single bowl with noodles and veggies in a broth he and Reinhardt had thrown together at the last second the day before, and she extracts it with care to put in the pot Hanzo had fetched for her. She could microwave it, but there’s something more organic about using the stove, she’s found.

“Indeed,” Hanzo says with a weary sigh. It appears he’s been up for a while already, considering his attire is impeccably clean and his hair perfectly coiffed; he puts much value in his appearance, surprisingly enough, or perhaps that isn’t surprising at all. “I am not sure what he is expecting. McCree and Lena have made it quite clear where they stand.”

“You could have left.”

He sniffs. “It was a matter of pride.”

“Of course it was.” Hana contemplates getting a wooden spoon to stir the noodles but decides against it; that makes one more thing to wash later, so she just grabs a pair of chopsticks and uses those. “I would say you are both being ridiculous, but then again, McCree has known Genji longer than I have.”

“You would do the same for a squadmate of your own, no doubt,” Hanzo points out.

Hana pauses at that, stirring the noodles again in a contemplative silence. There had never been a situation where her squadmate had a tragic backstory – most professional gamers, after all, had financial backing that allowed them to pursue their careers without worry, to buy quality equipment and pay for travel expenses and competitions and things. If anything, the only tragedy was how young most of her compatriots were; there were certainly those above twenty, but most were her age if not younger.

“It would depend on which squadmate, I suppose,” Hana says at last, seeing the broth bubble and thus turning off the stove. Hanzo leans on the counter, arms over his chest, and watches as she carefully pours the noodles back into the bowl whence they had come, this time hot and steaming. “Most I did not know beyond their battle tags. Even within the infantry squads, I only knew Hyun and Siyeon by name because they had no tags, and neither of them lasted the first fight.”

“Odd,” Hanzo says, and Hana is grateful he doesn’t pursue the unspoken point. “I would expect the Korean government to foster friendship and camaraderie between its soldiers, especially when you are all young. They did not?”

“We did not have the luxury,” Hana says; “If you will recall, we were first brought together as the giant omnic in the sea was attacking us. We were lucky to be able to repel it at all, the first time.” She shrugs, dipping her chopsticks into the soup. “Battling to life or death has a way of bringing people together.”

Hanzo grunts, staring off into some point in space as Hana delicately places noodles in her mouth. Reinhardt had, of course, outdone himself with the broth, and since it had been Hanzo, not Genji, who had been involved in the kitchen this time around, the noodles are good and soft, not so much that they break apart but just enough to know that they are perfectly cooked. The vegetables are just an added bonus.

“I imagine you’ve heard about the mission in Russia,” Hanzo says after a moment, and, naturally, he doesn’t phrase it as a question.

“I have,” Hana says anyway, around a mouthful of noodles.

“Perhaps you are ready for a lesson, then? You did ask, and I intend to deliver.”

Hana considers it. She’d been planning on finding Lúcio, since the DJ tended to be very good at pulling her from her thoughts when they got too overwhelming, but – she expects he’ll be busy finishing up things in the medbay, given Dr. Ziegler is currently en route to Saint Petersburg. Genji is likely with Zenyatta and McCree looks to be busy with research, not that Hana would seek him out specifically for anything. Satya had mentioned the other day that she was working on a new prototype for her teleporter, so she’s probably busy.

Typically, this is when Hana would retreat to her room and flick through her games library until she found something to settle on. Unfortunately, her fingers, while no longer bleeding, are still sore, delicate, and a little puffy, so it would likely be best not to aggravate them further, especially without Dr. Ziegler’s Caduceus tech for quick healing.  Plus, she had given Hanzo her word that they would be friends, which sounds extremely weird when she parses it in her mind, but that’s the way it went so that’s how it must go.

“I cannot do any archery,” Hana says.

“That is fine,” Hanzo says. “You wanted to learn stealth as well. We will start simple.”

There isn’t much to say after that. Hana finishes her noodles and puts her bowl and chopsticks in the dishwasher, Hanzo bides his time by remaining eerily still, eyes slightly unfocused as he burns a hole in one of the cupboards, and then they’re walking out of the kitchen, McCree gives Hana another lazy wave at her called farewell, and it’s down to the training ranges.

( _Stealth_ , D.Va echoes. _That will come in handy if we ever run into_ him _again._ )

Hanzo guides her on how to walk so her footsteps are silence: ball of the foot hits the ground first, then she curves the outside of her foot to the ground, carefully pressing her weight to her heel until she can lift her other foot and repeat the process. She can’t do it very quickly – it involves so much thought, too much focus – but Hanzo demonstrates that she would eventually be able to almost sprint across battlefields in relative silence once she adjusts to the new position of her feet.

It helps to have something to put her mind to – something that’s not necessarily hard but sufficiently challenging to hold her attention. Hanzo must know it, too, because he doesn’t talk much beyond correcting her posture. It’s a relief, more than anything else, to know she can remain silent and no one will try to engage her in conversation, and once she manages to traverse the entire circumference of the training range with close to proper posture, Hanzo deems the first lesson complete and instructs her to practice as often as she can.

“Will you teach me to climb?” she asks him, since she isn’t tired, but her feet are a little sore so perhaps it isn’t one of her better ideas.

“Eventually,” he answers, “If you think you are up for it.”

She glances down at her hands and grimaces before looking up. Hanzo follows her gaze and offers her nothing but a shrug. The slight smile on his face grows incrementally when she says, “Was that a pun?”

“Of course not.” She rolls her eyes. He chuckles slightly, bending down to loop his bow across his back – he brings it with him everywhere, much like how very few Overwatch agents roamed the Gibraltar base unarmed. “Come, let us find my brother.”

“What for?”

“You will see.”

Hana raises an eyebrow at that but doesn’t question it beyond a puff of an exhale. Genji himself had said Hanzo was cryptic. Hana’s inclined to think he merely doesn’t know how to speak from the heart, however poetic that sounds; he only knows what to say to get others to do what he needs or wants them to do, and that she can understand. Speaking about oneself is difficult, as she’s discovered from her talks with 76, her visits with Dr. Ziegler, and further, she knows from her time in the spotlight that the right words can do a lot of things. Manipulation is something she’s intimately familiar with; for Hanzo, it’s the only thing he’s ever learned.

“Can I ask you a question?” she says.

“Certainly.”

“What about Genji made you certain it was him, when before you had been so doubtful?”

Hanzo’s shoulders hitch slightly, taken aback as he is, though other than that there isn’t any physical reaction. He seems to be considering his words rather carefully, though, before he says quite simply, “Genji told you, I gather.”

“He told me he had spent a year running after you.”

“He was always stubborn,” Hanzo agrees, a hint of a smirk on his face. “That was the first clue, I suppose.”

“And the others?”

“A tendency to talk when nervous. He tilts his head slightly to the left when he is about to ask a question, and though I cannot see him smile, I can hear it in his voice. When I attacked him, I would always know when he was about to deflect my arrows because of a slight tic.” Hanzo shrugs, an elegant lift of one shoulder. “In the end, I think it was merely the familiarity. It is hard not to recognize family when you grew up with them.”

Hana thinks of her own family back home and begs to differ, not that she says it out loud. “What was it like?”

“You will have to specify.”

“What was it like, knowing you had to kill him?” Hana asks, D.Va bumping her mind along as she stumbles upon the word, and if it were anyone else she might have softened her words – but Hanzo expects nothing less, and she prefers to be blunt if it will get the point across sooner.

Hanzo is silent for a few moments. They’ve left the training ranges at this point; outside, the weather is fair and the sun shines, and Hana can glimpse Lúcio perched up on the roof, headphones over his ears, bouncing slightly to the beat. He returns her wave with a call of both her name and Hanzo’s, and while she knows he could safely skate down the walls of the Gibraltar base to join them, he seems inclined to remain where he is. Hana is glad, a little, as it will allow Hanzo to respond to her query without interruption.

“It was a weakness of will on my part,” Hanzo says at last. His words are clear, not halting per se, but definitely hesitant. “My brother and I had been arguing for months by that time; my anger and pride blinded me in more ways than one. Though Genji had always had our father’s favor, that alone would not be enough to protect him, and I foolishly thought that the Shimada name was all I had when it came down to it.” He sighs. “By the time the horror set in, it was too late – for myself, for my family. And so I left.”

“And destroyed what was left of the Shimada clan.”

“Perhaps,” Hanzo says; “Mostly it was Genji’s doing, I’ve learned. A fitting end for them, I should think. Irony has always been our family’s downfall, would you not agree? – Left here.”

Hana turns left as directed – they’ve since entered the building containing the mess hall – and finds herself staring at a closed door. The name on the front reads _SHIMADA GENJI_ and Hanzo doesn’t even knock before opening the door and pushing inside.

“ _Anija_! Right on time,” Genji says, and then, “Ah, and you brought Hana as well. Perfect.”

“Genji,” Hanzo responds in kind, dipping his head. “Zenyatta.”

“Greetings,” Zenyatta says, seated on the floor.

Genji’s room is a mix between Spartan neat and absolute disaster. The floors, walls and desk are clean and organized, and, meanwhile, the bed is a disaster of tangled covers, clothes, electronics, tools, and Hana thinks she sees what looks like a photo album full of fake IDs when Hanzo gently pushes on her shoulder, urging her to take a seat. She does so and finds herself sandwiched between both Shimada brothers, with Zenyatta across from her.

“What is happening?” she asks.

“Card games,” Genji answers, and she can hear his shit-eating grin.

“I had been planning on meditating, but Lúcio has claimed the roof for the time being,” Zenyatta explains, shooting his pupil what might’ve been an exasperated look if he could make expressions. “Genji thus decided it was of utmost importance that I learn how to play a game called _Magic_.”

“ _Magic: The Gathering?_ ” Hana asks, aghast, and at Genji’s gleeful nod she groans and flops onto her back. Hanzo is grinning mercilessly at this point when she glares at him. “I have been betrayed.”

“Would you rather we try _Yu-gi-oh_?” Genji asks, and Hanzo snickers at Hana’s long, crude response in Korean, being the only one who can understand it. Zenyatta as well, she realizes when the omnic chuckles too. “I’ll take that as a no. It’ll be fun, Hana, come on.”

“I only played control decks,” Hana grumbles, “And it has been years. I veto this plan. Can I meditate instead?”

“If you are interested, you are welcome to join me tomorrow,” Zenyatta says, and Hana hesitates only briefly before nodding – and then the omnic adds, mischievous, “On the condition that you play at least one round.”

“ _I have been betrayed._ ”

“I will not suffer through this alone,” Zenyatta intones and, well, he’s got her there.

“We can just build decks today,” Genji says, “Low stress and all that. Plus they just came out with an entire new edition of cards, and since Overwatch gives us disposable income, I might as well use it for this.”

“Unbelievable,” Hana says, staring at the ceiling, rolling her eyes to Hanzo. “Do not tell me you play, as well?”

“My brother and I picked it up when we were younger,” Hanzo says with a smirk, “Along with _Pokémon_ and _Yu-gi-oh_.”

“And also that other one – _Gwent_ , I think?” Genji says. “From an old video game.”

“Not _Hearthstone_?” Hana asks.

“I don’t think so,” Genji says.

Hana stares. Hanzo’s smirk widens, and that’s when she knows there is absolutely no escape as Genji says cheerfully, “So, you said you only played control decks? Want to try going aggro?”

* * *

A day passes. Hana isn’t aware she’s counting them until she wakes up and makes a mental note that 76 had said _a few days_ and it has now been two.

Eating breakfast without him is weird. It’s not that he says much – he doesn’t, usually, if she’s being honest – or that he really adds much to the morning mix. It’s more of a _presence_ thing, she’d say. Even before everyone figured out he was Jack Morrison, he had an air about him that made you either steer clear or stop to look, an aura that made you think twice about crossing him, and that’s always been something of a comfort for her while she’s nibbling on whatever’s available as food that morning. Today said food is leftover pancakes, courtesy Reinhardt, except he’d made them in a pot instead of a saucepan so they really are more like cakes than anything else.

Hana’s never actually had pancakes before, though, so she’s kind of puzzling at what appears to be a pastry but – isn’t, apparently, when Tracer walks in, takes a look, laughs, and says, “C’mon, I’ll show you!”

Tracer flits around the kitchen like a hummingbird, Hana would say; never staying in one place for too long, balancing two plates, a small pitcher-thing of maple syrup ( _real_ maple syrup, Tracer emphasizes), silverware, and two cups in her hands in the time it takes Hana to breathe in to protest. Then the woman’s gone in a blur of blue and Hana has no choice but to follow her out into the mess hall proper, watching with some bemusement as Tracer stacks her own plate three pancakes high. Considering they were made in a pot, it draws some significant height, and Hana watches with furrowed eyebrows as the woman dumps maple syrup over the top and grabs a fork but not a knife.

“Can I eat this with chopsticks?” Hana asks. She can use forks, but they’re a little awkward and clunky and it makes her fingers hurt more than she would like, and she’s not sure how Tracer isn’t breaking the plate when she presses down to cut the pancakes into manageable chunks.

“Follow your dreams!” Tracer responds, which Hana takes to be a yes. The moment Hana rises to fetch chopsticks from the kitchen, however, Tracer disappears and reappears with a pair and deposits them on Hana’s single pancake, grinning cheekily despite having stuffed a rather large bite of food into her mouth already. Hana’s not about to question it; instead she says a quick _thank you_ , dabs a bit of syrup on her pancake, and takes a bite. It’s too sweet, as with most pastries, but she guesses it’s pretty tasty. It’s been an experience adjusting to culturally-different foods to begin with – complete with stomach aches – but it has been a learning one, and pancakes are filling if nothing else.

“You all right there, D.Va?” Tracer says after a few minutes of companionable silence filled only with the sounds of the two of them eating. That’s how Hana eats, most of the time; she finishes eating first before conversing with others, if only so that she has time to grab seconds while others are too busy talking to finish their firsts. “You seem a bit pensive. Is something the matter? Is it because Jack isn’t here?”

“No,” Hana says, and then she shakes her head and says, “Yes,” and then, “A little bit of both, I think?”

“Wanna talk about it?”

 _Not particularly, and not with you_. “I am fine,” Hana replies, forcing a smile. “I would rather focus on other things, to be honest.”

“Sure,” Tracer agrees, just like that, and then, “Did you hear that Torb make some kind of remark about Symmetra’s dress, so she set up turrets around his workspace and he almost got fried the next time he went in?”

Hana’s eyes widened. She had not, and Torbjörn must have said something particularly crude to get such a response. “They did not hurt him, did they?”

“Symm says she set the charge real low, so the only thing that got a little singed was his beard.” Tracer chuckles; like all of Tracer’s laughs, it’s one from the core, and her smile is wide and genuine. “Totally deserved it, if you ask me! He hasn’t so much as stared at Symm’s legs since then.”

“Genji and Hanzo made me play _Magic: The Gathering_ with them yesterday,” Hana blurts, because – she’s not sure why, actually, maybe because someone needs to know that the Shimada brothers are both extremely nerdy. Tracer in particular would relish knowing that fact, too, given her penchant to cause trouble.

“ _Magic_? That old card game from the nineteen-seventies or somethin’? Unbelievable,” Tracer says, now laughing outright. “Don’t tell me you play, too.”

“Used to,” Hana admits, a little bashful, and Tracer claps her hands delightedly. “Not once I got into _Starcraft_ , though.”

“Did you beat ‘em?”

“Of course,” Hana says, because she had beaten Hanzo, by a (literal) sliver, when the brothers had forced her to play at least one round once they had finished picking out their decks. Genji had straight-up pouted when she refused to play him. And then, she remembers something, and she says, “Did Genji ever tell you about the time he and Hanzo replaced all of the sugar in their estate with salt instead?”

Tracer’s eyes grow huge, mouth slowly going ajar before her lips curl upwards in a huge grin. “ _No_ ,” she says dramatically, leaning forward over her pancakes, and Hana can’t help but smile in return.

That’s how Hana’s morning goes, more or less. She’s hardly ever interacted with Tracer without Genji or McCree around, but it’s a refreshing change of pace to simply giggle and gossip about people on base rather than the constant introspection she’s gotten used to for the past couple of days. She has a tendency to try to analyze people as best as she is able when talking with them, and it’s – it’s a relief to find that with Tracer, she can find a companion who understands that she needs some simplicity and happily provides it.

Eventually, they do part ways – there’s only so many pancakes Tracer can stuff into her body, which turns out to be, quite frankly, a lot – and Hana waves her off when Tracer hesitates for just a split-second and says, “What happened back in Eichenwalde...”

“It was not your fault,” Hana says.

“Still feel bad about it, though,” Tracer says, though the way she kind of slumps over in relief belies how nervous she had been. “I’m sorry, in any case. Just thought you should know. I seemed pretty persnickety at the meeting a few days ago, so I just figured... I’m sorry.”

“It is fine.”

“It’s not,” Tracer says firmly, and it’s really amazing how many people have said that, and how Hana is starting to believe them when they do. “See you ‘round, yeah? Was great talking to you!”

And that’s that – she’s off in a blur of blue, and Hana’s left with an empty plate, a pair of chopsticks, and a lot of questions. Questions, she thinks, that will have to wait, seeing as Tracer is long gone by the time she piles her stuff into the dishwasher and checks the time.

“Athena, do you know where I could find Zenyatta?” she asks, directing her question to the ceiling.

“ _Zenyatta is in the garden outside of the building. It appears Bastion is with him._ ”

“Thanks,” Hana says, already making her way out of the kitchen and, from there, out of the mess hall.

“ _My pleasure, Agent Song._ ”

Hana’s not sure whose idea it was to have a community garden of sorts, but it’s quickly grown to become larger than envisioned. According to 76, the plan had been for it to occupy a small corner near the hangar, about a three- by four-meter plot – instead, it is at least five by six, if not larger, and is tended to almost exclusively by Bastion and Torbjörn. ( _The only thing those two can agree on_ , D.Va thinks dryly, and Hana huffs out a laugh.) Primarily it contains flowers, but Hana’s pretty sure she heard talk of tomatoes at some point, or perhaps it was potatoes. Either way, it hadn’t been there long enough to produce much of anything except the blooms that greet her as she steps through the protective wooden fence surrounding it.

Instantly, she feels more at ease; it’s quieter inside, drifting, almost, and when she spots Bastion it gives her a cheerful boop from where it’s watering a sago palm. Ganymede is ever-present on its shoulder, chirping at what appears to be a seagull on Bastion’s head, and Hana smiles at the sight as she delves further in. She can hear Zenyatta from where’s she standing - soft wind chimes and a gentle humming - and brushing past a small collection of hottentot-figs reveals the monk levitating above the ground, head bent and hands resting on his knees.

“Good morning, Hana,” he says upon her approach.

“Peace be with you,” she answers, which earns her a soft hum in response, and she smooths her skirt as she sits down across from him. The spongy grass acts as a cushion and is cool to the touch as she kicks off her shoes and socks, making a mental note to clip her toenails as she settles with her legs crossed. “I know I am a few minutes early, but I did not think you would mind.”

“Not at all,” he says, and she watches the orbs floating around him spin in a flat, circular plane and move until they delicately floated around his neck. The gentle chiming stops as he does so. “You seem at ease this morning. I am glad to see it.”

It’s only because it’s Zenyatta that she feels comfortable talking to him about this kind of thing, she thinks. He’s sat in for a few sessions with Dr. Ziegler, mostly as silent support or to toss an occasional harmony orb her way when talking about the memories became more than a little painful, and she had quickly understood why Genji held the monk in such high regard: his entire personality seems to be entirely non-confrontational, yet he is always ready to defend himself and those around him at a moment’s notice. Hana admires the well of calm that he is, and, if Genji is any representation, it isn’t easy to get there.

“I spoke with Tracer today,” Hana tells him, cupping her palms around her knees. Nearby, she hears Bastion beep a little song to Ganymede, who responds in kind. “It is something a relief to talk about things that are not at all relevant to... well, anything, I suppose.”

“Understandable. The reason we enjoy focusing on celebrities it to take our minds off of the hardships in the world, I have found.” A single orb drifts from his neck to his waiting hand, revolving in place as he twirls his fingers around it. “Would you like to begin? I understand it will be your first time doing this in a while.”

“There was never time, in the end.” ( _Too many distractions_ , D.Va corrects.)

“That is fine,” Zenyatta says, sounding – amused, maybe. “It is difficult to master when you do not have a teacher. With a mind as agitated as yours, I imagine it must have been even harder for you.”

“I would not know,” Hana says; “I have never tried.”

“We will start simple,” Zenyatta says in response, passing a harmony orb off to her so that it floats above her shoulders. She’s grown accustomed to the warmth and sense of tranquility that it brings, and she welcomes it as she straightens her back and brushes her hair over her shoulders. “Are you ready?”

“I think so,” she says, closing her eyes.

( _Easy_ , D.Va says, and goes quiet.)

“I have learned that holding a steady breathing pattern is actually counterproductive for humans, though you will need to remain focused on your breaths.” She gives the slightest nod, and Zenyatta goes on, “Observe the way your body feels as you breathe - the way your chest, shoulders, and stomach move. Focus on that, and try not to let your mind wander. Since this is your first time, do not be surprised if you are easily distracted; a few minutes will suffice, I think.”

Hana listens, and she breathes.

It’s so much to focus on, and yet so little: she can feel her heartbeat, the way her spine holds up her head, her diaphragm expanding and contracting as her lungs fill with air and then let it out. Her stomach is settled and working away at the carbs she’d put into it this morning; her eyelids feel light and it’s hard to keep them shut. _Breathing_ , she tells herself, and then there’s an itch in her leg and she finds she can ignore it with ease if she just thinks about the way bones sift and muscles tense and how breathing powers everything her body does.

She’s not sure how much time passes, but she does know her thoughts continuously wander if she’s not paying close attention – more than once she has to remind herself that thinking about what 76 is doing won’t change a thing, and a few times she starts going further back, and further, and further, and that’s when Zenyatta’s harmony orb (and D.Va) pull her back from the edge – and by the time she opens her eyes again, she feels drained, but in a good way, like after exercising for a long time and the endorphin high is just starting to wear off.

“It has been almost twenty-two minutes,” Zenyatta says, soft. He is watching her, she thinks, though to be honest, she can never truly tell. “I am impressed.”

“Thanks... I think.” Hana rubs at the itch on her shin, finally, and sighs in faint relief. “I can see why one would do this for hours.”

“It has many health benefits for humans,” Zenyatta says. “Genji also says that it helps when some of his software is acting up, as it allows him to isolate and fix the problem. For omnics like myself, it is simply a way to think more deeply – to think as humans would, I suppose you would say.”

Hana remains quiet. She’s not sure what to think of that, or how to respond, and it’s clear Zenyatta doesn’t expect her to. “Would you like to try again?” he asks instead, and at her nod, she watches him gently reach up and draw a single finger in an arc across his face, down and then up – a human smile. Her breath catches, just for a moment, as he asks, “Do you want me to talk you through it, or will you be fine on your own?”

Every instinct tells her to say the latter; Hana thinks it’s a sign that she’s starting to understand herself better when she says, “Please talk me through it,” and there’s an undeniable sense of peace settling her chest as he does so, careful and lilting.

* * *

A day passes. Hana has to stop herself from going over to 76’s door and asking if he wants to get breakfast with her, and she reminds herself that it’s been two days and he would be back not tomorrow but the day after. She would be able to manage that long, especially since everyone on base seems disinclined to leave her alone for long periods of time.

( _You still do not know what the Saint Petersburg mission even is_ , D.Va points out, and that’s enough for Hana to roll her eyes but continue on to the mess hall nonetheless.)

This remains true when she arrives in the mess to find McCree and Lúcio bent over what appears to be the latter’s turntables, a small holoprojector in front of them with headphones settled over both of their heads. At their elbows lie abandoned toast, McCree’s with jam and Lúcio’s with what appears to be marmalade; papers and scribbled music notes litter the other half of the table. It’s not the first time Lúcio has brought his music compositions to someone else for critique, but Hana is absolutely certain it’s the first time McCree has been involved.

She could try saying hello, but she gets the sense they wouldn’t be able to hear her. Better to just get their attention, then, and she does so by swiping McCree’s hat from his head and placing it atop hers, pulling out her phone to take a selfie. She had made a deal with Genji the day they had played Mario Kart, after all, and she definitely would’ve lost, so it seems as good a time as any to do as she said she would.

“Photo bomb!” Lúcio shouts before she can get the shot, and she yelps as he surges up to stand beside her. She manages to snap a picture just as McCree looks over, eyebrows knit in confusion as Hana and Lúcio grin widely at the screen; she sends it off to Genji and posts it to her Instagram a moment later, tagging Lúcio and opting out of captioning it. Let fans interpret it as they would.

“ _Annyeong_ ,” she says to Lúcio, grinning as she tucks her phone away.

“Hello, hello,” he answers, smiling back, followed shortly by “Saw part of your stream last night. Man, you sure don’t pull the punches.”

“I am the top player for a reason,” Hana says, adding with a bit of pride, “I do not show mercy.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Lúcio says, cryptic, and then, “Hey, McCree, can I borrow your hat for a bit?”

“Only if you don’t stain it or anythin’,” McCree says. The headphones drop to go around his neck, which they can, for once, since he isn’t wearing his serape, “Howdy, darlin’.”

“Good morning, McCree,” Hana says. “If you are not eating your toast, can I have it instead?”

“Take mine,” Lúcio says, taking McCree’s hat off of her head and placing it on his. His dreads are down so it doesn’t have to perch awkwardly against his forehead to stay balanced, and Hana chuckles as he sets about taking a few selfies of his own, taking the piece of toast he hadn’t touched. “McCree was listening to one of my newer tracks - it’s one I did with Bastion the other day. Hey, did you know that our resident cowboy hates country?”

“Just because I’m a cowboy doesn’t mean I have to like country music,” McCree says, with the exhausted air of someone who has said it many times before.

“But you are a walking stereotype otherwise,” Hana points out. “You even have spurs. Why stop at the music?”

“A man has his limits,” McCree says. Now he just sounds exasperated, and he deftly changes the subject. “Lúcio, mind explainin’ what you did with the filterin’ at this section?”

“Which one?” Lúcio says, returning the hat to McCree’s head. McCree points to a certain place on the holoprojector, and Lúcio’s eyes widen in recognition. “Oh, yeah! Filtered out the higher frequency above, uh, I forget the Hertz number, and then boosted the lower ones. Gives it a bigger boom.”

“Dunno, I feel like maybe if you isolated this frequency in particular, and then – ”

Whatever that results in pleases Lúcio immediately, Hana can tell right away as she finishes off the toast; he practically shoves McCree aside to mess around with the music a bit more, crowing, “Don’t know what you did but that sounded _awesome_ ,” and then Hana looks down at the paper strewn across the table’s surface and picks one up. The title is a mess of Portuguese and it’s mostly a bunch of scribbling of what Lúcio hopes the song will sound like, from what she can tell from what little garbled English there is, but there are a few music notes on a five-bar staff as well.

“Hana, Hana, check this out,” Lúcio says, and that’s all the warning she gets before headphones are placed on her ears. She yelps and drops the paper in surprise, and then has to reach up and adjust the volume as the music starts blasting, and then she sits down at the table, leans forward, closes her eyes, and listens.

It’s... beatboxing, set to a fluid tempo and backed with the typical electronica that underlays all of Lúcio’s music. She can hear Bastion’s clicks, whirrs, and chirps interspersed throughout, sometimes pitched up to match the chord, sometimes not, and overall the effect is – interesting is the word for it. It’s not his usual style of music, she can tell, and she has an great time trying to guess where the next note will go and at what pitch, and she doesn’t realize she’s bobbing her head slightly until she has to reach up and readjust the headphones.

It has a little bit of Lúcio’s healing flair in it, too, Hana realizes about halfway through. She had smiled in greeting because that was something Americans tended to do and it made McCree more comfortable; she finds her lips curling upwards without her thinking about it and knows that Lúcio’s crafted a song that embodies the hope he brought to his people, once upon a time, and the hope that he wishes will reach others as well.

“I like it,” she says when the song finishes with one of Bastion’s long, swooping notes. “Kind of like a mix of classic EDM and early electronic music. Definitely not for everyone, but I enjoyed it.” She doesn’t mention the healing beat, but she tilts her head at Lúcio and smiles to let him know she noticed it.

Lúcio beams. “Thanks, Hana. McCree helped me a lot to figure out the background stuff, too, which is why it probably sounds a bit different.” He drums his fingers on his headphones when Hana hands them back to him, and then he turns to the cowboy and says, “Hey, maybe you can be credited on my album, get your picture on there and everything.”

“Better not,” McCree says. “I’m a wanted criminal, if you’ll recall.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lúcio says, though it doesn’t appear to have a dampener on his mood at all, giving Hana the sense that the cowboy hat selfies might have had a dual purpose. “Might not be good for my image.”

“Just a bit,” McCree agrees easily, leaning back to stretch his arms above his head. His prosthetic one clanks against the table when it comes back down again. “I’m not too good with all the new music stuff, anyway. I mean, in comparison to both of you, I’m pretty old.”

“You’re thirty-seven,” Hana says, because she’s read his file. She reaches over to snag his uneaten piece of toast, and McCree merely slides his plate over for easier access, tipping his hat at her nod of thanks.

“Ancient,” McCree intones, breaking out into laughter when she rolls her eyes. “I’m almost two decades your senior, you know?”

“Whatever,” she says, dragging out the last syllable, and then, to change the subject, “What kind of music do you like, anyway?”

“Kinda just listened to whatever was on the radio,” McCree says. “Pop, mostly, I guess is what you’d call it. News, otherwise.” He shrugs. “Picked up a few things here and there from a sound engineer I met once – he was in charge of makin’ sure our eardrums didn’t puncture or whatever, forget the terminology. He was only in Deadlock for a little bit.”

“McCree’s been super helpful,” Lúcio interrupts. “Hasn’t got the best ears because of close-range firearms, but damn if he can’t pick up on the nuances.” The Brazilian’s face falls into a contemplative look. “Now if only I could get the commander to help me out.”

“Jack?” McCree says.

“He has perfect pitch,” Hana answers before Lúcio can. McCree raises his eyebrow at her, and she amends, “Absolute pitch. He can distinguish notes and name them.”

“Wonder if that was ever useful during combat missions,” McCree muses.

“Might be,” Lúcio says. “He can probably figure out whose gun is going off based on what it sounds like. Explains how he always knows who’s at his back.”

McCree grunts at that. Hana snags his last piece of toast and makes a mental note to figure out what jam he had used. “Never thought of that. Then again, most of us have distinct-soundin’ guns.”

“I mean, if I had absolute pitch, I could definitely find a way to make it useful in combat,” Lúcio says with a shrug. “Him being Jack Morrison, I would be surprised if he hadn’t. Relative pitch is all I’ve got, though. – Hey, Hana, if you’re not busy, you mind listening to the whole album? McCree’s been at it for almost an hour and I think he’s getting a little tired.”

“Speak fer yourself,” McCree says with a snort, though he does have shadows under his eyes and Hana wonders what’s happening in Sydney, Australia.

“This is your newest one?” she says instead of interrogating McCree, reaching over to pluck the headphones from Lúcio’s hands.

“Eh, kind of. This one’s more of an... experiment. Not sure if I’m gonna release it, to be honest.”

“Fair enough,” she says, and then, “Do you want me to take notes or just listen and comment?”

“Whichever’s easier for you.”

There’s no paper around that hasn’t been covered in black ink, so she settles with musing out loud as she listens to each tune – there’s no direct train of thought and she’s not thinking about what she’s saying, not very hard anyway, and Lúcio listens to her intently, occasionally pausing the music, making an adjustment, and asking for her opinion afterwards. McCree doesn’t have nearly as much to say as she does – merely pointing out a spot where there’s clipping, for instance - but what strikes her is how Lúcio had woven his healing beat into every single song in the album, not just the one she had first listened to. If she listens closely, she can hear his speed boost there too, pumping up in the bass, and it’s amazing what he can do with just the power of music.

( _He is a famous DJ for a reason_ , D.Va murmurs, and Hana smiles.)

“Fifteen songs is a little long,” she comments as the last tune finishes. She feels - not like she had after meditation, but there is that sense of calmness and mellowness settled loosely in her chest.

“Yeah, I’m thinking of making it the deluxe edition. Super deluxe has eighteen. Maybe nineteen, if Bastion’s up for it.”

“Can’t believe you got it to beatbox,” McCree says, shaking his head in wonderment. “Next thing you know, it’ll be singin’ to birds.”

“It already does that,” Hana says.

“Not competently,” McCree replies, which, point. Hana lets it go. “Either way, I think you’ve got a solid album here, Lúcio. You know when you’re gonna release it?”

“I had to cancel a few of my tour plans when the whole thing in Rio de Janeiro went down,” Lúcio says; “But I’ll be going to Numbani soon. Might premiere it then, or maybe just tease it. _Synaesthesia Auditiva_ is still pretty new, so.”

“You said it took you two years to write that one,” McCree says, tapping at the holoprojector. “Meanwhile, you got all of these in, what, weeks? Might want to hold off for a bit.”

“I guess so, yeah,” Lúcio agrees, “They aren’t perfect.” He stares at the screen for a bit, rubbing at his chin with a hand; then he decides, thoughtful, “Still, I like the one I have with Bastion. Maybe I’ll put it out on YouTube just for fun.”

“Opinions on omnics vary greatly,” Hana cautions. “I would be careful if you do choose to publicize that particular work. I know that back home, at least, it might drive some of your fans away.”

“That’s the price of progress,” Lúcio says with a slight sigh and shake of his head. “Nothing’s gonna change unless we pioneer it, right? Power to the people and all that.”

“As long as you are aware of the risks,” Hana says, remembering a selfie she’d taken with an omnic fan that had gone viral and, ultimately, resulted in the omnic leaving the country. “Having such views will put you in danger, if nothing else.”

Lúcio blinks at her, briefly, before there’s a small smile on his face and he says, “Guess you’d know, huh.”

“I have been in the public eye for three years,” Hana says with a small smile of her own. “You pick up on things, over time.”

“Yeah.” At her questioning look, Lúcio elaborates, “Read your file. You know, how you learned martial arts just to defend yourself against... well. Assholes.”

She grimaces at that. “A consequence of being young, female, attractive, and having to wear a skintight bodysuit to operate my mech, unfortunately.” At Lúcio and McCree’s disgusted looks, she shrugs. “It is something I have grown accustomed to, though it is easier now that my superiors do not need to parade me around every few days.”

“Like I said,” Lúcio says, and then spits, “Assholes.”

“Sometime I can’t believe you’re only nineteen,” McCree murmurs, likely to himself, and then he snags his plate and Lúcio’s as well and gets to his feet. “Wise beyond your years.”

“What is it Seventy-six likes to say - ah, yes. We are all soldiers now,” Hana says, and it doesn’t get her any laughs but she hadn’t been expecting it to, really.

“True,” McCree concedes in any case, and then, angling his head towards the DJ, “I’m gonna get, Lúcio, gotta finish up some readin’.”

“No problem, McCree, thanks for the help. Hana, you got somewhere to be, or you wanna stick around?”

“I think I will go to the garden,” Hana says. “I am not sure yet. Thank you, though.”

“You know where to find me,” Lúcio says, giving her a wave, and Hana returns it and McCree’s called farewell as she stands up, arching her back and stretching her arms far above her head as she goes.

In truth, she’s really not sure where she wants to go. Zenyatta had given her express permission to seek him out whenever she wanted or needed to, but Lúcio’s music has left her with a serene, almost solemn state of mind. Back home, she would have seized upon the opportunity to take a nap or play through some more relaxed video games, since it was rare she felt so at peace – here, though, she’s aware that it would probably be better if she didn’t fall back to her old habits, even if talking to people tires her out. She’ll have all evening to recuperate.

( _Let’s go find Satya,_ D.Va suggests. _We haven’t seen her in a while_ , and Hana adjusts her path accordingly.)

Satya is only ever in three places: the workshop, the mess hall, or her room, which Hana has yet to see. Since Satya isn’t in the mess hall, it’s likely she’s in the workshop, and when Hana rounds the corner to the hallway where the workshop is stationed, she quickly hears that she is correct – Reinhardt’s boisterousness is interspersed with the quiet, dulcet tones of Satya’s voice, and when Hana gives a tentative knock on the doorframe, poking her head in reveals Satya bending light between her fingers, studying one of Reinhardt’s gauntlets intently.

“Hana!” Reinhardt booms, and he might have leapt to his feet if it wouldn’t knock over Satya’s chair. “It is good to see you!”

“Hello,” she says, taking his greeting as permission to come closer. Satya doesn’t look up, and Hana doesn’t interrupt her; the architech will speak to her once she has completed her current hard-light creation. So far, it seems Satya has built four of the five fingers of the gauntlet, as well as the parts that encase the palm of Reinhardt’s hand. “Is it okay if I watch?”

“By all means,” Reinhardt says, and then, smiling, “Lena told me you enjoyed the pancakes, yes?”

“I have never had them before,” Hana confesses. “They were delicious. A bit too sweet, though.”

“I accidentally put in extra sugar,” Reinhardt admits, smiling at Hana’s startled laugh. “Jesse and Lena always liked them better that way, so it happened automatically. I will strive not to do so next time.”

“I do not mind.”

“Ah, but I do,” Reinhardt says, and when Hana blinks at him, confused, he laughs. “Food is the best way to bring people together, no? I will try to make a dish that pleases you. Perhaps you should teach me how to make some of your foods.”

The thought of Reinhardt stir-frying with delicate finesse almost makes her laugh. “I will do my best,” Hana promises.

“Done,” Satya announces suddenly, hands settling on her lap, and the thumb portion of the gauntlet joins the other four fingers and palm on the table in front of her. She gives Hana a small, kind smile. “Greetings, Hana.”

“Hello, Satya,” Hana says with a slight nod. She glances down at the gauntlet. “Are you making Reinhardt’s armor?”

“I needed a break from researching teleporter improvements,” Satya says, though it comes out a bit like a confession. “Mister Wilhelm graciously allowed me to try my hand at recreating his armor. It seemed like a sufficient challenge.”

“It could be very useful in combat,” Reinhardt agrees. “Brigitte – ah, my mechanic – is usually not on the field with me, so even the smallest crack can be catastrophic. If Satya manages to replicate my armor, she can provide quick adjustments in the heat of battle.”

“Where is she?”

“Brigitte?” Hana nods. “She has gone back home, for now. She was to go to Eichenwalde with me, however, so I imagine she will be there for a day or two before continuing on. She will be back to learn more under Torbjörn’s tutelage.”

Satya, by now, has picked up the individual pieces she has made and is inspecting them in her hands, flipping them over and gently moving their joints in her palm. _A sufficient challenge_ , she had said, and Hana watches the woman bend the index finger’s two joints and frown to herself. “Tensile strength may be an issue,” she explains when she sees Hana’s gaze. “Mister Wilhelm must be able to heft his hammer, and considering how much force he uses in battle, it would be unfortunate if his armor broke from the pressure or if the hammer merely fell out of his grip.”

“They don’t make Crusader armor like they used to,” Reinhardt booms, getting to his feet. The stool he had been sitting on groans in relief as he fixes Hana with a toothy grin, and though his blind eye is cloudy and unfocused, it manages to settle on her along with his good one. “How are you feeling, Hana? Jack will be back soon, I would imagine.”

Inwardly, she winces. Knowing that she is so obviously transparent doesn’t do much for her pride, and whatever relief she might feel at not having to hide so much anymore is swamped by embarrassment. “It has been a bit of an adjustment period,” Hana admits, and that’s as much as he’s going to get out of her. “But I am managing, as you can see.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Satya says. Somehow everything she does is graceful, even her smile, and it’s so hard for Hana to remember that this is a woman who dominates in the training range - not only that, but she does so by going up close and slipping in and out of blind spots, always in motion and impossible to hit. “It has been difficult to find you on base, as of late. Your schedule has changed because of the commander’s absence.”

That would be because Hana stays holed up in her room for most of the day, streaming or just messing around online. In the mornings she makes herself get up and socialize and typically in the afternoons would find her training with 76; not having those sessions is indeed changing her day-to-day activities, though she hadn’t realized to what extent until right this moment.

“I apologize. I would have comm’d you if I had known you were looking for me,” Hana says apologetically.

“I figured you would want some time alone. I understand.” Satya finally puts down the hard-light she’d been twiddling with and regards the mess of gauntlet before her, examining them intently. “Mister Wilhelm, I believe I will have to figure out how these go together before I can attempt any other part of your armor. I thank you for the opportunity to study it in more detail.”

“My pleasure,” Reinhardt says, and then, “In any case, it is time I prepare lunch! All this talk of food has made me hungry. Hana, perhaps you would care to join me?”

“I will come with you,” Satya says, glancing over at Hana briefly, and Hana tries to hide her relief by nodding at Reinhardt; being alone with the man is fun, all things considered, but his larger-than-life personality could be tiring after a while. Satya would be a welcome reprieve from the constant loudness that seemed to follow Reinhardt everywhere. “I believe we have the ingredients that will allow me to bake something.”

“A cooking party!” Reinhardt says, grinning widely, and he waits until Satya has set aside the hard-light on her workshop desk, pushed her chair back underneath it, and walked over to join them at the doorway. It’s with some difficulty that Hana keeps up with Reinhardt’s strides, but he thankfully slows down so he doesn’t leave the two women behind. “It has been a while since I have cooked with others. I tried to teach Genji once, did you know?”

“That must have been interesting,” Hana says, sharing a wide-eyed look with Satya.

“It was a disaster,” Reinhardt says, laughing. “He has not yet improved, either. I suppose if you do not need to eat, there is no need to hone such a skill!”

“His talents lie in other areas,” Satya agrees, and then, slyly, “He is remarkably adept at opening jars and bottles.”

“A worthy baking assistant,” Reinhardt says, slamming a fist into his open palm, and when Hana doesn’t say anything, Satya flashes her another quick glance and responds, and –

( _There are a lot of people here who are looking out for you_ , D.Va whispers – )

and Hana thinks she’ll be okay, even with Reinhardt’s somewhat extreme extroversion; Satya is looking out for her, like Genji and Hanzo and Lúcio and the rest, and with that she inhales deeply, exhales slowly, and smiles when Reinhardt asks her a question.

* * *

A day passes. Hana is waiting in the hangar when the ORCA alights on the floor, not quiet but certainly not loud, and when the door opens 76 is the first one out and she’s the first one darting forward to greet them, uncaring of her surroundings as she kind of just barrels 76 over in a hug. She thinks she can hear McCree laughing at her actions, or actually, not _at_ her but maybe _with_ her, and then 76 is hugging her back and she can feel some of the tension in her body unwind. He’s back, he’s here, and when she pulls away she can’t disguise the smile pulling at her lips.

“Hi, Hana,” he says, and she can hear the grin in his voice.

“Hi, dad!” she chirps, and then, “You are not dead, I see.”

“And you didn’t comm me, so you must be fine,” he says, carefully detaching himself from her to rest a hand on her shoulder. Winston is already calling from the ORCA that there’ll be a debrief in two hours, and Tracer, Genji and McCree are crowded around Pharah and Ana while Torbjörn and Mercy converse with Reinhardt about – something, she’s not sure, she can’t hear it. “Nothing happened around here, right?”

“If by that, you mean did Talon come to us – no,” Hana says, shaking her head. “I think McCree and Athena were monitoring the news, though. Do you know of anything happening in Sydney, Australia?”

76 hums thoughtfully at that. They’re out of the hangar now, early morning light casting long shadows across the Gibraltar base, and after a moment he says, “Not sure. My guess is that it has something to do with the Junkers, seeing as that’s where they came from.”

“Huh,” Hana says, and then, “Why were you in Saint Petersburg, anyway?”

“Long story,” he says with a little sigh, and then, “Got a new recruit coming in soon, though. Honestly, I’m not sure how it’s going to work out, but we’ll see.” He gives her shoulder a pat and says, “So, what’ve you been up to?”

“Genji was in the kitchen again,” Hana says, and before 76 can even voice the question she adds, “Because we needed him to open a jar,” and maybe he can’t tell how relieved she is just to see him again, but knowing she doesn’t have to manage on her own anymore is so strangely relaxing that she just lets it go.

She doesn’t have to worry about monitoring what she’s thinking because he’ll be next door again if she wakes up in the middle of the night, and he’ll be there when she goes to talk with Dr. Ziegler, and he’ll be there at breakfast, and it’s pathetic how he’s become such a pillar of support in her life, but – that’s the way life goes, she supposes, as she tells him about playing _Magic_ and eating pancakes and baking cookies and being _okay_ at the end of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **japanese**  
>  _anija_ \- older brother
> 
>  **korean**  
>  _annyeong_ \- hello
> 
> confession: i have never played the pokemon card game, yu-gi-oh, magic, or hearthstone. (i have played gwent.) i am nerdy, but i am not that nerdy, and all help in reference to magic came from roguevector, haha.
> 
> so. SO. how about that overwatch update, huh? (i love brawl i played like three hours of it yesterday alskdfjalshdfas) as of writing this, i have reaper, symmetra, and ana's halloween skins, along with ana's emote and pharah's spray. _i just want mercy's witch skin is that too much to ask_
> 
> in other news, gee, who could the newest recruit be?? hm!! (double punctuation denotes sarcasm.)
> 
> and this is more of a filler chapter than anything else. there will be more action next time, i think, if all goes as planned. cheers!
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- 76 and pharah had a similar relationship to what he and hana have now, but it was also different because pharah also got the Dad Experience from gabe, who we now know was probably the ultimate dad, and from reinhardt. so, like, they were close, but not as close as hana is to 76. same idea, though!  
> \- ana is definitely the kind of person who tosses candy on the ground for the kids to fetch. she's not putting that in your bag because if you really wanted candy _you'd fight her for it_ (in the distance you hear "mother, no" while winston takes her up on that offer and ana just. lets him have the peanut butter cups because she's not doing hand-to-hand with a tesla cannon-wielding gorilla)  
>  \- bastion spends a lot of time in the garden. also, i know seagulls are big birds. there was still a seagull on its head, and, yes, it looked hilarious and it's a miracle hana didn't laugh  
> \- genji and reinhardt's cooking lessons went roughly as follows: 1) genji sets water to a boil 2) stove explodes 3) gabe: _this is why everyone should know where the fire extinguishers are goddammit_  
>  \- hana and lúcio spend a lot of time learning about each other's careers. by the end of the overwatch stunt, hana is proficient at composition and lúcio can beat your ass at _starcraft_ , though he isn't, like, top-tier material by any means  
> \- mccree is the kind of person who really wants to waste time, so, in order to maximize the amount of time he has to waste, he does everything he needs to do right away so he can mess around afterwards. literally everyone in blackwatch admires his discipline  
> \- reinhardt and mercy are arguing about how leaving him off the mission was a good thing. torbjörn is complaining that symmetra shouldn't get to know the inner-workings of reinhardt's armor.  
> \- symmetra and hanzo are definitely friends. i'm not sure if you saw that one comic going around on tumblr or read ArcaneAdagio's latest update, but, yes. they are definitely pals in judging people's tastes. (hanzo and widowmaker would also be sniper bros. they probably would share a perch and refuse to let ana in on the action. ana wouldn't mind except widow has the best chocolate and she wants some)  
> \- tracer is able to dodge most bullets and projectiles. the only one who can consistently hit her in battle is zenyatta, a fact that genji lords over her whenever he remembers. tracer has yet to get an answer as to _why_ zenyatta can always hit her. she suspects magic  
> 


	63. true friendship multiplies the good in life and divides its evils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Publicity stunts are a thing, and Hana, however unwilling or willing, has a reputation to uphold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many thanks to roguevector for figuring out the chatroom stuff and for beta-ing - it turns out i am woefully inept when it comes to hangul emojis and emojis in general, haha. i'm starting to feel a little old?? also many thanks to costumebleh for beta-ing and cheer-reading!
> 
> in other news, this week has been a little bit awful. my birthday was great (saturday!), but on sunday i almost fainted in the bathroom and on monday one of my close friends had a panic attack and i couldn't help them very much, being halfway across the country. but! i'm feeling better today! with 2016 being the way it is, every little bit counts!
> 
> i hope you're having a great wednesday and that the rest of your week is just as lovely as you <3

The debrief is short and sweet, all things considered: Overwatch had been asked to help reclaim a Volskaya Industries factory from the hands of what had, at first, appeared to be highly-skilled vigilantes of some kind – but later turned out to be Talon agents. ( _Surprise, surprise_ , D.Va mutters. Hana is inclined to agree.) The Russian government hadn’t trusted Overwatch to do the job by themselves, however, and had assigned one Serzhánt Aleksandra Zaryanova to – Hana’s best guess is to oversee them, basically, to make sure their motley group didn’t do something untoward. According to 76, “Zarya” had been a professional and powerful individual who had greatly aided the operation, and, in a show of goodwill, her superiors had dispatched her to serve on Overwatch’s roster.

“Likely also to keep an eye on us,” Winston says, “Similar to Symmetra’s presence.” Satya looks distinctly uncomfortable to have that stated out loud, though she nods in assent. Lúcio makes a dismissive _pfeh_ , loud enough to echo in the room, and Hana elbows him in the side.

“She will be arriving sometime in the next few weeks,” Winston finishes up, and then, pushing his glasses up his nose, “I’ve received reports from Jesse and Reinhardt that everything was as it should be back here, and I’ll be reviewing Athena’s logs tonight. Our next mission will be within two days or so, so take the time to rest up and get ready. Dismissed – ah, but Lúcio, stay back for a bit.”

Hana exchanges glances with 76 and many others at the conference table appear equally mystified. There hadn’t been a word about another operation either on base or in Russia, but Hana guesses that more information will come to light once Winston, and apparently Lúcio, have worked out the logistical details. She doesn’t envy the gorilla’s job, that’s for sure, as she gets to her feet, falling into place next to 76 as they leave the conference room in contemplative silence.

“What is Zarya like?” she asks him after a few moments.

76 hums, thoughtful, and takes a moment to formulate a response. “Strong,” he says at last. “She used to be a weightlifter. Tore a particle cannon from an armored truck, apparently, and uses it as her weapon.”

“ _Shi-bal_.”

“Language,” 76 says, amused, and then continues on, “Intelligent, as well. She has very intricate knowledge of gravity waves and particle physics and applies those ideas in battle.”

“And she’s a weightlifter?” Hana says, eyebrows furrowed. “I feel as though she is wasting her talents.”

“Quite the opposite,” 76 says; “She dropped out of an international lifting tournament when the Siberian omnium reactivated. – You read about that?”

“McCree mentioned it in passing,” Hana says, and then she’s quiet for a bit before she speaks again. “I suppose Korea isn’t the only one suffering the consequences.”

“More so than other countries, I would say,” 76 amends. “Either way, she’s been fighting on the front lines ever since. Russian leaders are only letting us borrow her on the condition that we come and shut down the Siberian omnium for good. As far as I know, they’ve given us a deadline of a few months from now.”

Instantly, Hana’s stomach coils with dread. It’s one thing to fight a giant omnic to protect her country; it’s quite another to fight an active omnium, complete with a god AI, to protect one of Korea’s neighbors. But she’s Overwatch now, she knows, and that means the lines between countries are blurred. She may not have known that coming in, but she knows now, and she knows she can’t back down – not yet, perhaps not ever.

( _No rest for the weary_ , D.Va whispers, and Hana remembers that being one of 76’s many quips.)

“Hey, Hana, wait up!”

Hana turns her head slightly, just barely glancing over her shoulder and effectively breaking off her conversation with 76; they both pause in the hallway when Lúcio skates up to them, grinning widely. It’s a stark contrast from what she’s just heard, and she lets the warmth of the moment sink into her skin.

“Quick favor to ask you,” he says once he’s fallen into step beside them, skating alongside as they walk.

“Sure,” she says, bemusement apparent in her tone.

“Winston was going to wait to ask you, but I figured it would be better if it came from me. – Would you be interested in tagging along with me when I go to Numbani on tour?”

( _Think about this_ , D.Va says, stopping Hana from saying _no_ immediately.)

“Me?” she says instead. It might have come out wary if she hadn’t been surprised.

“Oh, come on,” Lúcio says with a wide smile and roll of his eyes. “I’m famous, you’re famous – this is our chance to get a lot of positive publicity for Overwatch, yeah? Especially if we do some kind of joint show, you livestreaming, me doing my music. It’d be perfect.”

“That’s the mission Winston was talking about?” 76 asks, and Hana doesn’t have to see his face to know he’s got both eyebrows raised. “A concert?”

“A publicity stunt,” Lúcio clarifies, and then, a bit defensively, “You’re Jack Morrison, you know better than anyone how important those are.”

76 tilts his head at that, considering. “I suppose so,” he agrees, voice contemplative. “We’re still new and haven’t really shaken off the reputation from before. Can’t ignore that Talon will probably have something planned for you, though.”

“A risk I’m willing to take,” Lúcio says with a firm nod before he turns to look at Hana. “So, you in? Your call. Don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

( _We are ready for this_ , D.Va says before Hana can even think.)

( _I am so tired,_ Hana murmured. _Tired of parading myself around. Tired of being stared at, tired of crowds. I do not want to._ )

( _We do not owe Overwatch anything_ , D.Va says, _but we cannot sit and do nothing when this might be able to help._ )

( _Help who?_ )

( _Korea, against the giant omnic. Siberia, against the omnium._ A slight pause. _The world, against Talon._ )

“Hana,” 76 says, and she’s suddenly aware that she has been staring at Lúcio, completely expressionless, for at least a few seconds. Lúcio, thankfully, doesn’t appear perturbed, merely patient with a half-smile on his face, and she suddenly remembers that she’ll actually get to see Lúcio perform _live_ and bring some credibility to Overwatch and get out of base and hasn’t she always wanted to travel the world, to compete against the best the world has to offer - and the decision is made before she can blink.

“I will go,” she says, mustering a smile. “I will need to procure proper equipment in order to game, but I will go.”

Lúcio whoops, one hand going for his headphones to keep them from falling off of his head as he pivots on a skate and begins to go back the way he had come. “Thanks, Hana!” he calls back, flashing her a thumbs-up, and Hana watches him almost skate into the door of the conference room when it doesn’t open fast enough before he’s out of sight.

“I’m surprised,” 76 says, as they resume walking down the hallway. She thinks they’re going to the mess hall, or maybe their rooms, but she’s happy enough to have him back so she’s not going to ask. “You think you’re up for it?”

“I am always ready,” she says, “I am D.Va, after all. Whether I want to or not is another question entirely.”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he points out, “As Lúcio made quite clear.”

“Just as you do not have to fight as much as you do, and yet here you are,” Hana says primly, and then she sighs and says, “It is a matter of pride, I suppose. I can do something that will help many people in the long-run, and it would be irresponsible to not do so.”

“If you think you can do it, then do it,” 76 says, almost placating. “Watching your health is the most important thing to remember, though. We both know the whole thing is probably going to go sideways somehow, and if nothing else, you need to be ready for that.”

(The name goes unspoken, for which Hana is grateful.)

“I will be fine,” she says; it’s a promise, if nothing else, and she gives 76 a grin. “I will enlist help. Overwatch will not be alone in this.”

* * *

[  D.Va has reentered  밈 시티 ]

[D.Va]: anyone here?  
[MIM]: holy shiiiiiit @all dudes d.va’s online (ㆁㅿㆁ)

[  AppleCIder has reentered  밈 시티 ]

[AppleCIder]: oh you're actually not kidding this time.  @takes22tango get in here.

[  takes22tango has reentered  밈 시티 ]

[takes22tango]: Quick, someone put up a filter so the handlers don’t see this.  
[AppleCIder]: way ahead of you. ㅋㅋㅋ   
[D.Va]: hey everyone!  
[takes22tango]: Hi, D.Va!  
[MIM]: d.va not to say we’re not happy to hear from you, but what the fuck are you doing? if anyone but us sees you’re here they’ll trace the signal back to you and come find you and drag you back here by your hair (ಠ益ಠ)  
[AppleCIder]: ㅋㅋㅋ where is the lie?  
[D.Va]: i’d love to say it’s because I missed you all and just wanted to talk, but  
[D.Va]: i have a favor to ask all of you  
[AppleCIder]: you need _our_ help? never thought i’d see the day.  
[takes22tango]: Stop it. ‘We’re all in this together’, remember?  
[MIM]: well we _were_ until someone just straight up _left_ for some reason. and then joined _overwatch_. remind me how that happened again?  
[D.Va]: it’s a long story orz i promise i’ll tell you later  
[MIM]: i’m holding you to that ㆆㅿㆆ  
[MIM]: so what do you need our help for? some kind of secret mission? i could definitely use a break from training  
[takes22tango]: Says the guy who ditched training to play _Starcraft_ in a café today.  
[AppleCIder]: ಠ_ಠ   
[MIM]: hey i plan on ranking above d.va before i fucking die because of the omnic. at least i have life goals! ㅇㅅㅇ  
[takes22tango]: You’re a beacon of sunshine and optimism in these dark times, mim.  
[AppleCIder]: anyway, d.va. what do you need?  
[D.Va]: a few things  
[D.Va]: first, a blueprint for a MEKA, mine if you can get it, a general one otherwise  
[AppleCIder]: done. i’ll send it via the PM system in our mechs asap. what else?  
[D.Va]: i think you’ll like this one  
[D.Va]: anyone want tickets to see lúcio live in numbani?  
[MIM]: lúcio (•_•)  
[D.Va]: yep!  
[MIM]: as in lúcio correia dos santos (✧Д✧) (✧Д✧) (✧Д✧) (✧Д✧) (✧Д✧)  
[D.Va]: the one who wrote synaesthesia auditiva, yeah  
[MIM]: holy shit girl i thought that photo you insta’d was fake what the hell (ㅇㅁㅇ)  
[AppleCIder]: if you’d been watching her streams and looking at her latest merch line you would know that they’re friends, dumbass. ㅋㅋㅋ  
[MIM]: look not all of us keep tabs on each other like you do ok get off my back  
[AppleCIder]: as for tickets, hell yes. where do i sign up for this?  
[takes22tango]: It shouldn’t be too difficult to swing with our handlers, but only a few of us will be able to go. Do you want us with our MEKAs?  
[D.Va]: if possible yes. otherwise it’s fine if you don’t have them  
[D.Va]: just having any one of you standing with me would be awesome  
[takes22tango]: We’ll always have your back, D.Va.  
[AppleCIder]: what they said. time, place, we’ll be there. send the tickets using the same connection i’ll be using to send you the mech blueprints.  
[MIM]: yo do you think i could get lúcio’s autograph if i asked nicely ◕ ‿ ◕  
[D.Va]: i'll let him know  
[D.Va]: you still have that poster of him by your bunk right?  
[takes22tango]: He stares at it lovingly for at least an hour every night.  
[MIM]: oh my fuck shut up  
[takes22tango]: Hey, I’m just telling her the facts. She has a right to know.  
[MIM]: d.va i swear to god if you tell that man i’d be willing to mack on him any day of the week i will fucking shoot you  
[D.Va]: if it helps, i’m pretty sure he’s pan ;)  
[MIM]: don’t get my hopes up also i am holding a gun right now and i will be holding this gun in numbani and if you tell lúcio i will _shoot you with this gun_ (ಠ_ಠ)┏  
[D.Va]: ;)  
[MIM]: D.VA I SWEAR TO GOD WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME   
[AppleCIder]: ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

* * *

D.Va  
hey lúcio one of my squadmates is hardcore crushing on you and wants your autograph  
Sent at 13.21

Seen at 13.21  
Lúcio!!!  
Are they nice and are they cute?

[You  have sent Lúcio!!! a file: hisIGNismemeinkorean.jpg]

D.Va  
he's nice but also a living shitpost  
thoughts?  
Sent at 13.21

[Lúcio!!!  has opened your file: hisIGNismemeinkorean.jpg]

Seen at 13.23  
Lúcio!!!  
he’s pretty cute.  
if i give the autograph to you, can you get it to him?

* * *

The thing about streaming online is that it’s really not fun or entertaining unless you’ve got quality competition – which is what Hana hopes to find as she delves into chatrooms and DMs with people she hasn’t spoken to in a long time, requesting assistance and explaining why she needs their help. Some of it goes well, most of it doesn’t, and at the end of three hours she leans back from her computer and gently rubs at her fingers, knowing she’s found one or two worthy opponents but not nearly enough to occupy a good length of time.

She needs a break. Speaking to those old connections reminds her just how poisonous the gaming community can be, and she feels drained, mentally and emotionally, so she gets up and changes out of her pajamas and into workout clothes, intent on swinging by the kitchen to grab something to munch on before going to the training ranges. Some exercise would do her good.

Arriving at the ranges reveals a number of people gathered around a mat that had been placed on the ground, a bright orange color that cheerfully cushions the sparring people above it – Tracer against Genji, it seems, their lightning-quick movements almost too fast to follow. Among the throngs of spectators is McCree, Hanzo, and Ana; further down, Hana can see Dr. Ziegler with her pistol alongside 76 and Pharah, and as she draws closer, 76 gives her a wave that she returns. Her interest, however, is captured by the fact that Genji has countered Tracer with a kick that was too quick for her to see and Tracer is rolling on the ground, laughing so hard it looks like it hurts.

“Of course he gets serious when I go for the balls!” she manages to gasp out, hands clenched over her stomach. Genji looks as nonplussed as ever, visor in place. “It wouldn’t even hurt if I did kick ya there, Genj, oh my _god_.”

“Instinct,” Genji says with a shrug, reaching a hand down to help Tracer to her feet. Tracer is still laughing and leaning heavily on him as he points out, “You should be glad I didn’t go for a punch in the chest.”

“Boob punches hurt,” Tracer agrees wisely, still giggling, and then, “Oh, Hana! Didn’t see ya there.”

“ _Annyeong._ ”

“I was wonderin’ when you’d get out of your room,” McCree drawls. He looks restless; impatient, almost. She wonders, again, what’s happening in Sydney, Australia. ( _Junkers, maybe_ , D.Va echoes, and Hana tucks that away for later.)

“I would like to try,” Hana says, gesturing at the mat. It earns her a number of surprised looks; only Ana and Genji appear unfazed, though Hana decidedly avoids catching the sniper’s eye.

“Are you sure that is wise?” Hanzo says, eyebrows raised. “You are still healing.”

“I will be fine,” she says firmly, and then she adds, “I promise that I am proficient in hand-to-hand combat.” She knows that no one is going to volunteer to spar against her because they don’t know what her limits are, so when she strides onto the mat she simply raises her voice and calls out, “Dad?” knowing that 76 will hear it even over his pulse rifle rounds. _Super-soldiers_ , she thinks with an inward shake of her head, and she ignores how Tracer comments on the title she has given to Jack as 76 glances over and, seeing her on the mat, briefly converses with Dr. Ziegler and Pharah before setting his rifle aside and coming closer.

“Been a while,” he says, peeling off his gloves and giving them to Ana with a nod when the woman offers a hand. He’s wearing his visor, a blank, gray T-shirt, and sweats; casual today, perfect for working out, and she shifts into a defensive stance as he briefly flexes and relaxes his fingers. “Ready?”

She strikes in response, uncoiling quickly and precisely. 76 is prepared, though, since they did this almost every night during their trek to Gibraltar, blocking her sharp hit with his forearm before jabbing at her shoulder. He’s not relatively harsh with his blows, but he doesn’t exactly pull back, either; Hana had learned quickly enough that she should dodge rather than block, as she ducks underneath the swing and uses the momentum to slam her shin hard against his thigh. When he grabs her ankle, she twists around him, serpentine, freeing her leg and dodging his punch in the process. It all happens in the span of a few seconds, and then he lunges for her legs, she barely manages to sidestep, and he rolls away from her kick and they’re back on their feet.

She steps back then, as 76 straightens up from his crouch and nods in approval. “Gotten faster,” he says, shifting so he can roll his shoulders a few times, and Hana definitely doesn’t preen under the praise, absolutely not. (She doesn’t, honestly, but it does bring a smile to her face.) “Didn’t expect that, since you’re probably a bit rusty.”

“Git gud,” she chirps, to which Genji barks out a startled laugh.

“The day you take me down is the day you can say that seriously,” 76 says, and then to the others, “That’s the kind of fighting style you can expect if you want to give it a shot. I’m going back to target practice.”

“Interestin’,” McCree says as 76 takes his leave, the old soldier touching his hand to Hana’s shoulder before he goes. The cowboy is also dressed casually, shorts and a T-shirt, though the hat is ever-present on his head. “Not quite as fast as Lena or Genji, but you’ve definitely practiced more than one martial art and blended them together, it looks like.”

“Whatever works,” Hana says; “It is meant for quick takedowns so I can run away afterwards. I will not hold up for long in a fight.”

“No one does,” Hanzo says, and then, leaning down to set his bow onto the ground, “I would be willing to spar, however.”

Fighting Hanzo ends up being like fighting water – he’s never there when she strikes, but dodging his attacks comes naturally, just another rock in the river that she moves around before trying to guess where he will be and lashing out. It’s not a stalemate by any means, because she knows he’s holding back, but it’s still fun and almost like a dance when she finally asks for a break, sweat gathering at her brow as Hanzo gives her a short bow, hands clapped together, that she returns after a moment of thought.

“You are faster than I expected,” Hanzo says, and Hana accepts the water bottle Genji reaches out to hand her. “With some practice, you will be quite formidable.”

“I will teach her,” Genji says, to which Hanzo sends him a cutting glare, and Genji tilts his head at Hanzo, birdlike. “You are already teaching her archery and stealth. You can at least give me this.”

Hanzo grates something out in Japanese. Genji responds in kind, and then Hanzo gives him a curt nod and the conversation is tabled. She raises an eyebrow and exchanges glances with Tracer, and the woman offers her a shrug, smiling apologetically as McCree and Genji move onto the mat, McCree saying something about mechanical prosthetics and tapping his left arm. It’s clear from the get-go that the cowboy is out of his element – his stance is sloppy, for one, and it’s obvious he’s not as fast as Genji inevitably is – and Hana is more than willing to watch when there is a voice at her side.

“Hana, a word?”

( _Ana_ , D.Va says, with something like a sigh. Hana’s instinct is to run. As it is, she ends up flinching, and it’s only D.Va’s willpower that lets Hana turn to face Ana fully.)

“Yes,” Hana says, aware that she’s already begun to curl into herself a bit and forcing her shoulders to remain wide and her hands to stay open. “What can I do for you?”

Behind her, McCree grunts as Genji lands a hit. Ana’s eye flicks to the movement for just a split second, and then her attention is back on Hana and she says, “I believe it’s more a question of what I can do for _you_ , seeing as it was my oversight that led to our, ah, rocky introduction.”

Hana doesn’t say anything to that, folding her hands tightly behind her back. She can feel both Hanzo and Tracer watching, maintaining their distance but remaining vigilant, and it’s with a quiet inhale that she makes the conscious decision to step away from the mat, away from support and safety. She - she can do it, she thinks, and Ana shadows her until they’re a few meters away from the others, conversation inaudible over the shooting range and the grunts from the sparring mat.

(D.Va settles, warm and heavy, over the panicked flutter of Hana’s heart.)

“Okay,” Hana says, and her voice is miraculously steady. _I can do this._

“Are you sure you do not want Jack here?” Ana asks her, and though everything about her screams _dangerous, hunter_ , _lethal_ , her tone of voice is soft - gentle, like a parent. _Like a mother, since she is one_. “This cannot be easy for you.”

“I can do it,” Hana says, a little stiffly. “I am not a child.”

Ana acquiesces with a nod. “Very well.” She pauses, as if waiting for Hana to bolt; when she doesn’t, the older woman explains, “All I wished to speak to you about was mending our relationship. Jack is very fond of you, and despite your young age, you are more like a soldier than most of us here. I wish to learn more about you.”

Hana listens without comment. Ana is one of 76’s closest friends - she knows that from the soft smile that graces 76’s face whenever he speaks of her, of how the two tease each other incessantly, the way they wordlessly cover each other in combat sims without really thinking about it. 76 has been considerate and making time for Hana without Ana involved, but that’s bound to change eventually seeing how quickly 76 has been reintegrated into Overwatch as Jack Morrison; she’ll have to get used to this, and to do that, she has to be brave and take the step forward.

“You do not seem adverse to the idea,” Ana says, and Hana starts, unaware she had been under observation. The sniper’s eye crinkles, accenting the crow’s feet at its corner, but she isn’t mocking, just amused. It burns Hana anyway.

“Perhaps a little,” she replies honestly, fingers clenching, once, behind her back. Ana likely notices the tightening of her shoulders but thankfully doesn’t comment. “I am willing to try, however.”

“I appreciate it.” A careful tilt of her head. “Would you like to meet for tea sometime? After this mission, of course.”

(Hana never drinks coffee or tea. She tries to avoid caffeine in general, but when it comes down to the wire, it’s energy drinks and protein shakes. _Tea might be good_ , D.Va whispers.)

“There will be downtime between concerts,” Hana says, squaring her shoulders as she forces the words out. “Perhaps we can meet up then.”

Ana’s smile is slow but steady, growing incrementally and genuine as can be. She stands tall and proud like her daughter despite her rather short height, and Hana watches as she lifts her chin and nods at her, just once. Firm, sure of herself, strong.

“That sounds wonderful,” Ana says. “If it’s all right with you, I will plan on that.”

“Then so will I,” Hana says. ( _Like a challenge,_ D.Va thinks. _We will win._ ) “You will have to pick my drink, though. I do not know anything about tea.”

“That’s quite all right,” Ana says, and, with a mischievous grin, “The more fun for me to figure out what you enjoy.”

( _She means well_ , D.Va says.)

“Okay,” Hana says, unable to muster much more than that, but she does manage to return Ana’s smile as they turn and make their way back to the sparring mat. She excuses herself the moment they arrive, departing swiftly out the door and ignoring any called farewells. After all of this - she thinks _Starcraft_ could use some playtime. It’s been a while. She might be able to find some more people willing to play against her for the upcoming trip if she goes online, and it will take her mind off of things.

 _I did it_ , she realizes as she’s waking her computer up from sleep, a few minutes later; _I did it, and I did it without help. I’m getting_ better, and that’s enough to bring a victorious grin to her face.

* * *

[takes22tango] : Hey @D.Va, you still with us?

[  D.Va has reentered  밈 시티 ]

[D.Va]: yep, what’s up  
[takes22tango]: I talked to our handlers about the tickets and stuff.  
[takes22tango]: They’re only letting one of us go. (ㅡㅿㅡ)  
[D.Va]: what, really? there are like seven tickets at least!  
[takes22tango]: We can’t spare any soldiers right now, I guess? They were kind of unclear. And also not big on the idea of helping out one of their ex-soldiers, even if she's with Overwatch.  
[MIM]: it fucking sucks!! dammit i really wanted to meet lúcio ㆆㅁㆆ  
[AppleCIder]: i looked into some of the handlers' emails. apparently they’re sending us out soon to deal with a ‘humanist threat’ up north.  
[AppleCIder]: which probably means nk is up to something again?  
[MIM]: who gives a shit i would literally kill for an opportunity like this  
[MIM]: i mean more than i usually do  
[MIM]: FUCK THIS IS SO UNFAIR  
[D.Va]: wait, so who’s coming then??  
[takes22tango]: Stray.  
[D.Va]: omgggg nooooo  
[AppleCIder]: ㅋㅋㅋ  
[D.Va]: does he still have that stick up his ass from when they made him a squad leader?  
[takes22tango]: He’s gotten better. He lost a squadmate - uh, M4rshm4ll0w, I think? - a couple months back, so he’s cooled off a lot.  
[MIM]: oh yeah i remember that it was hilariously sad  
[MIM]: didn’t leave his room for two days at least  
[AppleCIder]: he’s actually really nice to be around now. i had a conversation about key scripts with him the other day and, against all logic, he had some interesting ideas.  
[AppleCIder]: but yeah, handlers probably picked him because he’s the most level-headed and least likely to cause a scene.  
[takes22tango]: He won’t be able to bring his MEKA.  
[D.Va]: wasn’t expecting them to allow that tbh  
[D.Va]: thanks so much you guys, i appreciate it  
[MIM]: you owe us for this  
[MIM]: soon as handlers heard about it they knew it was you so they’re pissed off as hell  
[AppleCIder]: yeah, but who gives a shit. ㅋㅋㅋ  
[MIM]: good point ㅋㅋㅋ  
[takes22tango]: Just think about it like this: since D.Va is part of Overwatch, once the organization gains its footing, it can help us fight against the omnic in the sea.  
[takes22tango]: Delayed gratification, if you will. (^o^)  
[MIM]: yeah but there aren’t any guarantees they’ll be able to do what we can’t  
[D.Va]: i think you would be surprised, actually  
[D.Va]: at what these people are capable of i mean  
[MIM]: yeah?? i expect good things then d.va  
[AppleCIder]: just think, maybe we’ll actually be able to go home. ㅋㅋㅋ  
[AppleCIder]: my little sister just turned twelve and all i could do is send her a shitty birthday card. i want to be back there when she turns thirteen.  
[AppleCIder]: tell overwatch to get a move on, d.va.  
[D.Va]: for all of you, i’ll insist

* * *

[D.Va]: /w @Stray  
To [Stray]: hey, i heard you’re the one joining me in numbani?  
[Stray]: Yeah. Handler gave me the details. Ship out tomorrow, pretty early. I should be there before you arrive.  
[Stray]: Sorry. I know I’m probably not your first choice.  
To [Stray]: since when did we ever get to make our own choices? you're fine stray  
To [Stray]: and i heard about M4rshm4ll0w  
To [Stray]: i'm sorry  
[Stray]: Don't be. It was my fault. I was stupid.  
[Stray]: Now I understand what it's like.  
[Stray]: What I said to you back then was ignorant. I was insensitive, rude, and arrogant.   
[Stray]: I hope you can forgive me.  
To [Stray]: apology accepted. you know better now, and we all have each other’s backs  
To [Stray]: speaking of which, i’ll brief you more when you’re en route. don’t tell the handlers anything if you can help it  
[Stray]: Right. Thanks, D.Va.  
[Stray]: Anything else I should be aware of right away?  
To [Stray]: bring a gun and your gaming equipment  
To [Stray]: you’re going to need both  
[Stray]: ... Are you sure bringing a gun to a concert is a good idea?  
To [Stray]: it’s going to be a lot of fun, that i can promise you  
[Stray]: In that case, I'll bring two.

* * *

“Our next mission will be to accompany Lúcio during his concert tour, starting in Numbani and ending – where is it ending, Lúcio?”

“King’s Row, if I can get in touch with my manager again and she can swing it,” Lúcio answers, a half-smile quirking his lip.

“Right,” Winston says, rubbing a hand against his face before replacing his glasses on his nose. “We’ll be sending out a small strike team to accompany him as bodyguards. Hana will also be joining Lúcio in order to provide us with more publicity.”

“This is to foster goodwill towards Overwatch?” Ana clarifies. At Winston’s nod, she frowns deeply and says, “It has not been very long since our strike against Talon and the repeal of the Petras Act. This will be dangerous.”

“And we will be ready,” Hana says, exchanging a glance with Lúcio. “I have managed to wrangle one of my former squadmates to come along, and we will have allies everywhere.”

“Plus we can protect ourselves,” Lúcio says.

Ana _tsks_. “I am not against the idea, but we must proceed with caution.”

“I agree,” Winston says. “Because of that, I have chosen a team whose abilities will best reflect each other. You will be incognito and act as security detail. Try not to be recognized; if you are, report in and you will be swapped out.” He fixes them all with a severe look. “Many of you have criminal records and, while the U.N. has learned of your presence here, they have not yet agreed to wipe your bounties. Do not stay there if there is any chance you will be detained, as we will not be able to get you.”

He lets that sit for a bit. Hana rubs at her hand under the table and says nothing.

“The team will be as follows.” Winston drags a datapad on the table towards him and picks it up, nudging his glasses further up his nose. “Jack, Genji, Hanzo, Ana, and Symmetra. Keep in mind that Hana will be your only tank, as Reinhardt and I are too recognizable to – ”

“Hold on,” Lúcio interrupts, and Hana resists the urge to groan as she snaps a hand to Lúcio’s arm, trying and failing to pin him down to his seat. “I didn’t agree to have _Vishkar_ come with us.”

“It is not ideal for me, either,” Satya cuts in before anyone else can, and Hana stares at the woman, hoping she would try to diffuse the situation rather than make it worse. Thankfully, instead of insulting Lúcio’s character or something along those lines, Satya goes on, “However, you must remember that I am here for the sole purpose of monitoring Overwatch activity on behalf of Vishkar, a corporation that is currently being blackmailed.” She breathes in through her nose, expression pinched. “Maintaining goodwill is paramount. We have connections in Numbani that Vishkar wants me to confer with, and refusing to do so may invoke... undesirable consequences. To say the least.”

“Why would Vishkar allow this, considering Lúcio is considered a criminal in their view?” 76 asks, and all eyes turn to Satya, who purses her lips.

“I may have omitted some details in my last report,” she demurs at last, eyes flitting down to the table, and Hana's not sure if the burst of heat in her chest is fierce pride or fear for Satya, or maybe a combination of both. She trusts Satya to know what she's doing, but directly lying - granted, a lie of omission - to her superiors likely doesn't bode well for her.

Lúcio's expression changes to shock, just briefly, before it becomes sullen again as he sits back down. Hana leans heavily on his shoulder and side-eyes him, shaking her head when he frowns tightly at her. She can see the thoughts going through his head, analyzing the political ramifications that could occur if Vishkar ever found a way to weasel out of the blackmail, realizing that Satya is actually trying to _help_ Overwatch keep Vishkar down – and once he’s slouched a bit she lets him go, checking back into the conversation with a final nod in his direction.

“ – Hana is the only tank, so protecting her while she gets to her MEKA should be your priority if an attack should occur. Symmetra, I believe you mentioned setting up a teleporter near where Hana will be that will lead directly to her mech in case of emergencies?”

“Easily done,” Satya says with a nod.

“Hanzo, Genji, I’m placing you both in charge of keeping an eye out. You’ll both be up high and shouldn’t be seen with Lúcio or Hana at any time. Genji, you are technically still grounded, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Copy that, Winston,” says Genji.

“Understood,” Hanzo says.

“Ana,” Winston says, “I’m sure I don’t need to go over your job, but you’ll also be setting up high. Prioritize healing your teammates until Lúcio can get set up; then you can do as you need to.”

“Of course,” Ana replies. If she’s uneasy about the arrangement, she shows no sign of it.

“Jack, you’ll be acting as Lúcio and Hana’s bodyguard.” 76 isn’t wearing his visor, so everyone can see his raised eyebrow, and Winston explains, “Some cosmetic work will make you unrecognizable. If it helps, I’ve already told Lúcio and Hana to stick together whenever possible, so that should make your job easier. Symmetra will also be accompanying Hana closely.”

“As long as you’re sure,” 76 says, noncommittal.

“Besides Fareeha, you’re the only one here with real command experience,” Winston points out, and then, glancing over at the woman in question, “Since she’s staying on base, there shouldn’t be any problems on either side.”

“Understood.”

“Hana, Lúcio, I’m sure you already know your jobs,” Winston says. “Try to bring as much positive attention to Overwatch as possible, but stay safe.”

“Is having fun optional?” Tracer asks, arms crossed over her chest, and – oh yeah, she won’t be seeing Lúcio live, something she has expressed her displeasure at loudly and repeatedly for the past few hours.

“You can livestream it, Lena,” Winston says, exasperated, as he drops the datapad back onto the table. He ignores Tracer’s whine of _it’s not the same_ as he concludes, “Hana, any allies you can bring to help in case of Talon would be useful; I trust you and Jack to direct them as you see fit. Same to you, Lúcio.”

“You got it,” Lúcio says, snapping off a casual salute.

“Good.” Winston sighs heavily. He looks tired; Hana makes a mental note to grab him a jar of peanut butter when she can. “While you’re out there, you can talk about members of Overwatch freely unless they have a criminal record – that’s Jesse, Hanzo, Jack – or if no one knows they’re alive – Genji, Ana, Jack again. Don’t mention Bastion, for now, and it would probably be best to leave me out of conversation, too. Zenyatta would be going with you, but given the events in King’s Row, we’ve decided it would be best for him to stay here; you’re welcome to bring him up as you please.”

“I will be monitoring your streams in place of Genji,” Zenyatta directs to Hana; “I will be with you in spirit.”

“Pack enough clothes for a week – Lúcio, Hana, bring everything you’re going to need.” Winston checks another datapad resting on the conference room table and nods to himself. “Expenses will be covered, and you’ll have a stipend to spend on necessary supplies. Don’t waste it.”

 _A stipend_. Hana will probably be using it to treat Stray to meal, or, more accurately, to corner him and ask him about home, away from his handler’s eyes. Given the thoughtful look to Lúcio’s face, she gathers he’s identified a potential use for his money as well.

“Lastly, gather information on Talon if you can, and, if anything goes wrong – ” Winston looks distinctly uncomfortable for a moment, but he goes on – “If anything goes wrong, prioritize civilian safety over yours. We aren’t soldiers, but we are defenders of the peace. Stay calm, work together and with local authorities, and keep collateral damage to a minimum.” A pause. “Are there any questions?"

No one says a word. “You ship out at oh-six-hundred hours tomorrow,” Winston says after the expectant silence. “Don’t be late, and make sure you get enough sleep tonight. Dismissed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **korean**  
>  _밈 시티_ \- meme city  (provided i didn't mess up the translation)  
>  _shi-bal_ \- fuck  
>  _annyeong_ \- hello
> 
> the chatrooms are all in korean, btw - they're just in english to make it easier for the rest of us. (and all of those people in the chatrooms are ocs! i hate doing oc stuff in a canon story but since blizzard has yet to give us anything on hana, i do what i must.)
> 
> also, sombra? what is she doing with bastion?? who even knows, man.
> 
> also also, reminder of the political consequences that overwatch will be forced to deal with eventually: vishkar is being blackmailed to keep quiet about rio and support overwatch; russia has provided support, but with a very severe conditional; helix security has offered funding, a top agent, and weapons, but it's only the egyptian branch who has done so; overwatch may not have destroyed the hospital in egypt, but they did fail to stop its destruction and that has not gone unnoticed; the escapade to eichenwalde is under investigation by local authorities; and the u.n. has not yet cleared the bounties on many overwatch members' heads. there are more. be aware that this fic doesn't address many of them because hana is not paying a lot of attention, but they are there and they will rear their heads. also keep in mind that one of winston's greatest concerns at this moment in the fic is whether a second omnic crisis is looming.
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- 76 and hanzo do not get along, mostly because getting hanzo to obey orders is difficult and also because he knows very little about jack morrison and doesn't respect the name as much as others  
> \- ana and torbjörn are the ones who will immediately spring into making "I'm old" jokes and reinhardt will start mocking joint pain whenever 76 opens his mouth and says anything resembling "back in my day - "  
> \- genji is endlessly fascinated with lúcio's ability to make music out of pretty much nothing, and lúcio takes advantage of this by recording the various sounds genji can make with his cyborg self. it's a weird friendship, but it works anyway  
> \- hana tries to introduce winston to almond butter or cashew butter at some point, just to see if winston would take to it like he took to peanut butter (he did not)  
> \- mccree and pharah get along swimmingly and are also the Stop Lena's Pranks squad, as their combined talents make them strangely suited to stopping tracer's mischief either before or shortly after it happens (genji either is helping them or helping tracer; either way, he does not contribute much because he's too busy laughing his ass off)  
> \- reaper _can_ phase through physical objects, but generally it's used only as a last resort due to excessive consumption of energy  
>  \- symmetra knows some form of sign language and, when angry, will abandon her graceful movements and just aggressively sign crude words to make her hard-light. the only one who knows about this is bastion  
> \- widowmaker wore stiletto heels constantly when she was younger, which now means she can run, sprint, tumble, and do anything in very high heels. she is widely feared in talon because of this, and also because she likes to attach sharp things to her heels and is flexible enough to kick people in the face  
> \- zenyatta is probably the only one who knows the depth of mercy's legendary temper, and the same applies vice versa


	64. OPERATION: SYNAESTHESIA AUDITIVIA (part 1 of 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana and co. head to Numbani. Stray is introduced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wasn't able to respond to everyone's comments last chapter - deepest apologies, i've just been super busy! you know how school is, i'm sure c: i will try my utmost to get to all of them this time around, since i don't have classes tomorrow! 
> 
> many thanks to costumebleh and roguevector for the assists! couldn't have done this without you both.
> 
> i hope you're having a great day, and i hope the rest of your week is just as wonderful as you surely are <3

Hana’s gaming equipment, at the end of the day, takes up perhaps one cubic meter in the Thunderbird. In the smaller aircraft and combined with her mech, freshly retrieved from Egypt, it fills up a fair amount of space and, being the smallest, she finds herself awkwardly perched on top of her stuff as the cargo doors close and Tracer busies herself with the controls in the cockpit.

“If we crash, I am going to die,” Hana tells 76, who is buckled up in a seat that is adjacent and, currently, below hers. Everyone else also has that same luxury, a fact that she is very jealous of.

“If we crash, it won’t matter,” he replies, pointing out, “We’re going too fast for seatbelts to be useful.”

She concedes the point with a grimace and a mocking raspberry blown in Lúcio’s direction when he laughs. He’s not the one worried about crushing expensive equipment and having nothing to hold onto but the cases holding said special equipment, so of course he finds it funny, but she can’t find it in her to be annoyed. She’s too giddy, really, because she’s going to Africa, she’ll be gaming in front of a crowd and she’s going to see Lúcio live and to be honest, she hasn’t been this excited in years. It’s one thing to hear Lúcio’s music as a fan who doesn’t really know Portuguese all too well, separated from him by an ocean; it’s another to know she’ll get to see, up close, what he’ll do with the lights and the sounds and the setting, to see how he uses his experiences to make his music come alive. Reinhardt and Tracer had already pledged to livestream the concert, both none too happy about being unable to see it for themselves, and Lúcio had promised them front-row seats in the future.

( _I wonder what he will do in terms of championing omnic-human relations_ , D.Va murmurs, and Hana remembers that she can’t let her guard down, not now, not when she’s there.)

“If there is turbulence, I reserve the right to use you as a cushion,” Hana says, covering her unease by narrowing her eyes at 76.

In response, he lifts the rifle from between his knees and places it on his lap, chuckling at her indignant huff. Nearby, Ana shakes her head, smiling slightly, and Genji and Hanzo watch with varying degrees of interest, speaking to each other in low, fast Japanese. Lúcio bounces in his seat, holographic turntables out in front of him as he scrolls through his music list, hands moving so quickly over the interface they’re almost blurs, headphones over his ears, and Hana is hit simultaneously with a fresh wave of excitement at the sight - she’s going to see him live! - and also a bit of nausea as the aircraft takes off, bumpy and not at all as smoothly that she has grown accustomed to with Tracer’s usual flying.

The pilot is still grouchy, it appears, and it’s apparent both in the way she handles the plane and as she says flatly over the comm, “ _ETA two hours, give or take. We’re lucky enough to have clear skies, so it should be less._ ”

“Cheer up,” Ana says, tilting her head. Somewhere, somehow, she’s acquired a teacup and is sipping what smells like green tea from it. “There will be other times.”

“There’s only one first world tour,” Tracer answers as she brushes her way out of the cockpit, long legs folding underneath her until she’s seated on the only open spot on the floor. Lúcio doesn’t respond, too engrossed in his own music, and after a long moment of staring at him Tracer gives up, flopping to her back on the cool flooring. “This is so unfair.”

“We were grounded for a reason,” Genji points out.

“Yeah, but _you_ get to go.”

“I don’t get to watch the concert.”

“But _you get to go_.”

“Children, behave,” Ana says, and Hana understands that it must be something she’s very used to saying, because both Tracer and Genji shut up immediately, Tracer’s mouth in particular closing with an audible click. Hanzo looks remotely amused and 76 merely shakes his head again, and Hana tightens her grip on the handle of the boxes she’s holding and wishes she could have at least have had the foresight to put her gaming handheld in her pocket. Alas, it’s packed away with the rest of her equipment, though she does have her phone with her and it has been notifying her with updates to chatrooms incessantly since the moment she had turned it on. She might grab it later once she finds a more secure position on her teetering mountain of things, or if the conversation runs dry.

“What kind of tea is that?” Hanzo asks Ana, and Hana decides yes, the conversation has run dry, and despite her precarious position, she reaches into her pocket to pull out her phone.

[  D.Va has reentered  밈 시티 ]

[takes22tango]: Dude, I’m sitting right next to you. You don’t have to text it and yell it at the same time.  
[MIM]: IT’S SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL (ノㅠДㅠ)ノ  
[MIM]: I DON’T EVEN HAVE IT BUT THE PICTURE D.VA SENT ME MAKES IT WORTH IT OH MY GOD  
[MIM]: I’M GOING TO CRY  
[AppleCIder]: you’re already crying. ㅋㅋㅋ  
[MIM]: you’re right i am ㅠㅅㅠ  
[MIM]: CRYING TEARS OF JOY AND BLISS  
[D.Va]: it’s really not that big of a deal ㅋㅋㅋ  
[MIM]: D.VA YOU ARE GOD’S GIFT TO HUMANITY ^ㅂ^  
[MIM]: actually lúcio is god’s gift to humanity but  
[MIM]: I’M SO OVERWHELMED ㅜㅜ  
[AppleCIder]: we know. can you stop spamming the chatroom now?  
[takes22tango]: Also, I am sitting right next to you. Literally right next to you. And our handlers are lecturing us right now.  
[D.Va]: you’re not even religious mim  
[MIM]: IDGAF (✧Д✧)  
[MIM]: oh shit she notic;ialsdkjfnasdmf

[  MIM has left  밈 시티 ]

[  takes22tango has left  밈 시티 ]

[AppleCIder]: well, that was short-lived.  
[AppleCIder]: and how are you doing, d.va?  
[D.Va]: we’re en route to numbani rn!  
[D.Va]: there’s not enough room in the plane so i’m sitting on top of my gaming equipment  
[D.Va]: and one of my MEKA’s guns is poking me in the side but  
[AppleCIder]: wtf don’t they know that shit’s expensive?? ಠ_ಠ  
[D.Va]: right? w/e i’m over it  
[AppleCIder]: look how the cookie crumbles, huh? times have changed.  
[D.Va]: ??  
[AppleCIder]: i’m just imagining what your fans would say if they saw you sitting in a cramped plane on top of your shit. ㅋㅋㅋ  
[D.Va]: lol true  
[D.Va]: tbh it’s not so bad, our pilot’s really good at least  
[D.Va]: although we’re using autopilot rn so...  
[AppleCIder]: damn.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and Hana reflexively tightens her grip on her phone. She knows Apple well enough to know that she takes some time to think before typing things out, even with her whiplash witticisms and snark, and suddenly it’s as if the world has narrowed down to the words on her screen.

[AppleCIder]: guess i never really realized how much i missed you until now.  
[D.Va]: oh?  
[AppleCIder]: i mean we chat on the regular now but like. you’re not here, you’re an ocean and continent away.  
[AppleCIder]: it’s not the same with you gone you know? they had to scramble up the squads when you up and left and it was...  
[AppleCIder]: it kind of sucked, actually.  
[AppleCIder]: none of us were used to taking commands from someone new.  
[AppleCIder]: and youngblood doesn’t know our dynamics at all so she keeps fucking it up and almost got tango killed twice.  
[AppleCIder]: you know, because she sent tango out to scout too far. which you always made sure not to do because tango will overextend on their own so you have to make them scout less distance than you would usually.  
[AppleCIder]: stupid things like that.  
[AppleCIder]: i mean don’t get me wrong, i’m not angry that you left, frankly i’m a little jealous, and also frankly i’m a bit terrified at what the handlers might do to punish you if you come back...  
[AppleCIder]: and no one gives the handlers as much sass as you did...  
[AppleCIder]: but regardless of that, regardless of me whining, regardless of everything, i have to know.  
[AppleCIder]: you ever coming back to us, girl?

For a long moment, Hana can only stare at the Korean words, symbols swimming in and out of her vision.

She’s known, abstractly, that Overwatch wouldn’t be forever. Gibraltar isn’t home; it’s never really felt like it. Overwatch feels like an apartment she’s rented across the ocean, far away and distant, a temporary place to be before she returns to the madness that is the South Korean coast. The giant omnic in the sea has yet to rear its head, and it likely won’t until sometime next year, so she has time to mess around outside of the MEKA bubble without too many undue consequences.

But. At the same time.

Overwatch _could_ become her home, she thinks, glancing up to look over at those settled around her. Lúcio – he’s almost like her brother, and he must feel her gaze because he looks up and snaps her a smile before glancing back down at the hub of his turntables again. Hanzo and Genji – her mentors and maybe something like older cousins or even uncles, as Hanzo and Ana talk about tea and Genji and Tracer engage in what appears to be a staring contest, Genji’s visor resting on his lap. Tracer – an older sister. Ana – well, Hana doesn’t know, but it hardly matters because she knows Ana has her back.

And 76, of course. Leaving him behind when she returns to Korea will be... the hardest thing, she thinks. She’s not sure if she wants to go home, even though she knows she can without Overwatch’s help, and with that in mind she inhales, slowly, and taps out a response.

[D.Va]: yes  
[AppleCIder]: you’re not just saying that to make me happy are you?

“Seventy-six,” Hana says, quietly so no one else picks up on it, and at the tilt of his head she knows she has his attention. “Would you come with me, if I went home to fight the giant omnic in the sea?”

Hana is expecting a hesitation; a pause wherein 76 considers all of his options, as he always does, thinking about so much so fast that he loses track of reality, just for a tick. Instead, her chest constricts when his response is instantaneous, and he says, “Of course.”

[D.Va]: i’m not  
[D.Va]: i had no idea i had that much of an effect back in MEKA, but  
[D.Va]: running away like a coward isn’t how any of us do things  
[D.Va]: i _will_ come back, and when i do i’ll bring overwatch with me  
[AppleCIder]: ㅋㅋㅋ  
[AppleCIder]: you always _have_ played to win.

She huffs a laugh. Her catchphrase seems so long ago and forgotten now, but Apple isn’t wrong. It had been something she’d shouted before every deployment as their feet hit the ground, and the fact it resonates with the people she’d left behind makes her feel – honored, almost. Afraid, lonely, but honored, too.

[D.Va]: i always have  
[AppleCIder]: looking back...  
[AppleCIder]: that mindset is how you are the only squad leader who’s never lost a squadmate.  
[AppleCIder]: never really thought about it until tango almost didn’t make it a few weeks back. You know, because of youngblood.  
[AppleCIder]: we’ll have your back always, d.va. we’re all in this together.  
[AppleCIder]: and we’ll be waiting for you, whenever you return.

“I like having friends,” she tells 76, her phone dropping into her lap. Turbulence makes the Thunderbird jerk a little bit, and while Hana remains safely aloft on her pile of things, her MEKA teeters dangerously and only a frantic pull on the fusion cannon nearest to her keeps it upright. She’s almost certain they’re breaking at least fifteen aircraft safety laws with the way this whole operation is going so far.

“They’re good to have,” 76 agrees, and Ana must have overheard because she glances over and smiles a small smile towards him, and 76 absently reaches up to pat her arm as she settles back onto her boxes with her phone in front of her.

[D.Va]: the cheese is real  
[AppleCIder]: dammit d.va, we were having a moment. ㅋㅋㅋ

[  MIM has reentered  밈 시티 ]

[MIM]: wow holy shit seems like i’ve missed a lot (ㆁㅿㆁ)  
[AppleCIder]: where’s @takes22tango?  
[MIM]: they’re coming and i’m gonna read this text wall  
[AppleCIder]: you guys aren’t in trouble, right?

[  takes22tango has reentered  밈 시티 ]

[takes22tango]: We’re fine. My handler warned me that communicating with D.Va is strictly prohibited and I may be confined to my room if I don’t cease immediately, though.  
[takes22tango]: But honestly? Who gives a shit.  
[AppleCIder]: that’s the spirit. ㅋㅋㅋ  
[MIM]: aww holy hell everything about this is clichéd af but i love it  
[MIM]: tango go read what apple was saying up top  
[D.Va]: so you all miss me, huh? ;)  
[MIM]: damn right we do fucking youngblood still doesn’t know what she’s doing (ಠ益ಠ)  
[takes22tango]: Be nice.  
[AppleCIder]: the whole ‘we’re all in this together’ pact only applies to us four, tango.  
[takes22tango]: Doesn’t mean we can’t be nice.  
[MIM]: even if she still doesn’t know what she’s doing? (•_•)  
[takes22tango]: Sigh.  
[takes22tango]: Yes. Even if Youngblood still doesn’t know what she’s doing.  
[takes22tango]: Whenever you want to come back, D.Va, we’ll vouch for you.  
[MIM]: they miss you too  
[AppleCIder]: i think that’s already been established, mim.  
[MIM]: yeah well just thought she could use a reminder  
[MIM]: since you know. youngblood  
[AppleCIder]: fair.  
[takes22tango]: You’re both terrible.  
[MIM]: you wouldn’t have us any other way <3  
[takes22tango]: Fuck you for being right.  
[MIM]: that could be arranged ㅋ_ㅋ  
[AppleCIder]: ಠ_ಠ  
[takes22tango]: Stop that train of thought _right now_.  
[MIM]: ㅋㅋㅋ

(And Hana can’t stop smiling.)

* * *

Lúcio’s concert, as it turns out, has been sold out for months. Getting to Numbani is easy because Overwatch is well-versed in discretion, but the minute Lúcio and Hana stroll towards the hotel they would be staying in, Hana suddenly remembers what it means to be _famous_ again. She’s had the luxury of always being on a pedestal, held away first by her need for space to play video games and then the fact that the Korean military would keep the crowds away from her, but now –

She settles into the role, almost, like a blanket draping over her shoulders. It’s not the first time she’s had to put on a façade, and so she loops her arm through Lúcio’s and waves to the crowd with a cheeky grin. People would definitely interpret her actions incorrectly, but that is a price she’s used to paying.

“Don’t make eye contact,” Lúcio says cheerfully, bumping his shoulder against hers to get her attention for the camera facing them. They pose for it, again, briefly, before moving forward, around them a swarm of reporters jabbering in too many languages for her to count, and beyond _them_ a sea of people screaming and shouting both his name and hers. “Makes it worse.”

“You have no sense of style,” D.Va replies, flashing a peace sign high above her head when she hears someone’s cry of her name pierce through the roar of the crowd. Her gesture is answered by more screeching. “You have to be personable to get your fans engaged.”

“You look at individual people in a crowd this size?”

“I look directly at the cameras – it is basically the same thing, no?”

In response, Lúcio is suddenly not at her side, and when she glances behind her, he’s dropped into a one-armed handstand, flashing a grin at the cameras. The crowd starts screaming as he arches his back to – not flip onto his feet, kind of _jump_ to them, and she doesn’t realize how widely she’s smiling until he’s hooked her arm through his elbow again and they’re going further down the informal aisle spread before them. It’s weird to think the only thing separating her from a mob is a line of local police and a bunch of reporters, but she’s not afraid, not really, not when she’s done this hundreds of times, not when Lúcio is right next to her and keeping her grounded.

“It’s a beautiful city,” Lúcio says at some point, both to her and to a reporter leaning in, and she’s inclined to agree, looking around the sleek buildings and how smoothly technology was integrated into industrial structures. He sounds proud as he adds, “My kind of city. Humans and omnics working together.”

The rest passes in what she would tentatively call a frantic blur. It’s only minutes later that they finally arrive at the hotel, but it feels like at least an hour, and her ears welcome the decreased noise as they enter through its doors; she feels a little worn out already, energized by the crowd but simultaneously drained, and then she sighs, forces her hands through her hair, and follows the omnic clerk as she leads them to their VIP suite. Because they’re famous, so of course they get the VIP suite.

(She can feel Genji and Hanzo watching, somewhere, though she knows she wouldn’t be able to see them even if she tried looking.)

76 is standing by the door to the suite when they get there. The cosmetic magic Dr. Ziegler had worked on him had turned him into a dark brunet with brown eyes and a stern, scarred visage – that much hadn’t changed, at least. His visor had been replaced with something smaller and see-through, much like Symmetra’s headpiece, and it’s impossible to see him and think _Jack Morrison_ , which had been the goal. He curtly returns Hana’s nod as the omnic clerk ushers them inside, rifle held loosely in his hands, and then they’re shown around the place and – and the beds are _huge_ , larger than anything Hana has slept in, mostly because even being famous and traveling far for competitions meant nice hotels but not extravagant ones like these, and the clerk has to pull both her and Lúcio away to show them the rest of the suite.

They get a tiny kitchenette, a living room, and not one but two bathrooms. It’s a bit excessive, and Hana is again reminded that Lúcio had actually paid for part of this whole venture even with Overwatch’s help, but when she gives him a questioning glance he looks just as starstruck as her. Maybe it’s because of coming from the favelas back in Brazil? She’s not really sure, but either way, it’s a big room, it’s very comfortable, and the omnic clerk is very earnest as she explains how to work the shower and bathtub. Hana’s glad she does, because otherwise she would have just hit random buttons and hoped for the best.   

As soon as the clerk is gone, though, Lúcio and Hana look at each other for a significant second before each diving for one of the beds. It’s the softest thing she’s ever laid on, and she spreads out her arms and legs and stretches as Lúcio hops to his feet and, bouncing a few times, flips in the air and lands on his back. It’s ridiculous, and she might have done the same if she hadn’t decided she would never be leaving the bed again, except then Lúcio bounds to his feet and repeats it and she gets up to do it herself because _these beds are the softest beds she’s ever laid on holy shit._

They make enough of a racket that 76 knocks on the door, likely a bit concerned, and neither Hana nor Lúcio are inclined to get up to let him in, but alas - Hana bounces from the bed to the ground and trots over to the door, opening it just enough so he can grab it and open it the rest of the way, and then it’s a dead sprint back to the bed and 76 follows her, bemusement on his face as he sees the two of them just kind of lying there, relatively motionless, compared to the frenetic jumping that had taken place just seconds before.

“We need to leave before ten minutes is up,” he says after a while of watching them do absolutely nothing, still a bit breathless from bouncing around before.

“We’re only going to be here for a few days,” Lúcio says without lifting his head; “Let us enjoy at least this, Commander.”

“You’re both being ridiculous,” 76 answers, not unkindly. “It’s your concert, so it would be best if you actually were set up in time for it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lúcio says, flapping a hand before rolling over and kind of burrowing into the covers, drawing them around him like a cocoon. “Pull me out when it’s time to go.”

“Sooner rather than later would be best,” says another voice, and Hana yelps when Genji drops down right next to her on the bed, flinging her upwards, and then he’s using the momentum from his jump to spring off and land on the floor. She glares at him from her tangle of comforters, and Hanzo looks exasperated as he trails down the wall like – well, not a gentleman, because normal people don’t enter a room through the window – and takes a place right next to his brother. “The crowds grow larger the longer you wait.”

Lúcio doesn’t respond. Hana thinks he’s actually dozed off in the few seconds he’s been curled up, but then she sees him watching Hanzo closely, expression unreadable, and how Hanzo carefully ignores him in turn, eyes scanning the room around him instead. It’s lucky that Satya isn’t here – she’s off speaking with some of Vishkar’s clients, in fact – as there is only so much passive-aggressiveness Hana can take before she will give up and leave Lúcio to his simmering.

She’s getting close to that point, honestly, and thus she pushes herself up and frees herself from the comforter, standing up and briefly scrutinizing the Lúcio-sized lump in the linen in the bed opposite hers. A moment later she’s launched herself onto Lúcio’s prone form, eliciting a yelp as she straightens up so she’s sitting on what she’s pretty sure is his shoulder, systematically pulling at his covers until she can actually see part of his face and body. He’s grinning as he shakes with barely contained laughter, flailing about in his attempt to knock her away, but she remains strong and steady, weathering the storm as she continues to pick and prod at the covers.

“Do you not believe in second chances?” she says to him, quietly, as she finally, brutally yanks the covers away with such force she topples to the side and just barely manages to land on her feet on the floor. Lúcio’s laughter dies instantly as he narrows his eyes at her, lips pursing, but that’s all she has to say as she tosses the covers she’d stolen back onto the bed. She feels a little bad; they’ve made a mess for the workers to clean up, and she makes a mental note to remember to leave a tip as she turns to the Shimada brothers, confident that Lúcio would be getting up. “Was it necessary to sneak through the window?”

“We could not sneak through the ceiling,” Hanzo says, as if that explains everything.

“The vents are too small,” Genji clarifies unnecessarily, and then, slightly devilish, “Besides, we’re ninjas. We can climb anything.”

When Hana looks to him, Hanzo merely nods in agreement, one half of his mouth pulled up in a smirk. It’s 76 who says, “And you weren’t seen while scaling a very visible building in the middle of downtown?”

“Of course not,” Genji says, affronted. “We are the best the Shimada family has to offer, Commander.”

“People generally do not look up,” Hanzo says; “The street was clear below, and Amari kept an eye on us as we went. If we were seen, I doubt anyone of consequence would care.”

“We’re both celebrities,” Lúcio points out, finally on his feet, hopping around a bit as he shoves them into his skates. “People probably have pictures of you already.”

“Amari kept an eye on us as we went,” Hanzo repeats, once again as if that explained everything.

76 says, “You know, I wondered why she brought so many sleep darts,” and when Genji lets out a sound that resembles a giggle, the old soldier adds, “Babysitting you again, I see. Seems you brothers are more similar than you think.”

“ _It’s an endless, thankless task, Jack,_ ” Ana’s voice filters over comm, and Hana does chuckle at that, watching as Lúcio finally gets his skates on and comes over to stand at her side. “ _You should get a move on. The crowd refuses to be dispersed, and the police can only do so much_.”

“Copy that.” 76 tilts his head at the Shimada brothers. “Go do your ninja thing and disappear, then. We’ll be leaving out the front door and heading towards the stadium.”

“Symmetra won’t be joining you, correct?” Hanzo says. “I believe she mentioned she would be in meetings until later this evening, but if not, I will go and watch over her until she arrives.”

“She’ll be joining us at the stadium,” 76 confirms. “I’ll send one of you out to escort her when she’s finished with her business. Ana, you’re at your first mark?”

“ _Yes. I will be shifting positions as soon as you have left the building, however._ ”

“Copy that.” 76 waves an arm, a simple gesture to get everyone to follow him - well, Lúcio and Hana at least, as both Genji and Hanzo go towards the window in which they had recently arrived through. “It’s about a fifteen minute walk or so, probably longer with the amount of people you’ve both attracted. Stay close to me.”

“Obviously,” Hana says, waving goodbye as Genji slips out, first, followed closely by Hanzo, before trailing after 76 as he heads to the door. Nervousness bubbles in her chest and she clenches down on it, hard, twisting until it’s an almost unnoticeable buzz in the back of her throat, and then they’re going down the stairs to the ground floor and she can hear people talking again through the doors. Earplugs, she thinks distantly, bracing herself as she loops her arm through Lúcio’s, as they always do, 76 taking his place at their backs as the doorwoman opens the front and allows them outside.

“Game face, on,” she says with a wide grin, and Lúcio doesn’t respond beyond a laugh, but she knows he understands.

* * *

Lúcio’s concert is taking place in the largest sports stadium that Numbani has to offer - which is only one, granted, but it’s huge and highly adaptable, given it caters to both omnic and human sports. This is where a stage is set up, rather small in comparison to the wide expanse of flat terrain surrounding it, layers upon layers of bleachers climbing up towards the sky and enclosed above with a clear sheet of holographic glass. It’s here that Hana and Lúcio end up after departing the hotel, swiftly moving to avoid the crowds in accordance to local police instructions, and that is where Hana finally meets up with one of her fellow MEKA pilots.

Stray looks exactly as Hana remembers – tall, sharp face and eyes, dressed as a civilian in jeans and a zip-up hoodie but clearly military just by the way he stands. If he’s brought two guns like he had said, they aren’t visible right now; Hana figures they’re hidden under his sweater as she reaches a hand out to shake, moving forward to bump her shoulder against his and pat his back once, him copying her motions exactly. It’s a quick, noninvasive hug, and it’s standard practice in MEKA to greet each other in this way; it’s personal, grounding, long but not too long, and done entirely in rebellion of the salute their handlers typically insisted they use. Stray looks expressionless when they pull back from each other, and she is sure she does, too, and they automatically shift their stances so they stand side-by-side, hands crossed behind their back, legs spread shoulder length apart.

(Hana feels a sense of familiarity at the motions. It’s not entirely welcome. It feels intrusive - feels _wrong_ , given so many movements were drilled into her bones by harsh words and hard stares and countless hours in training.)

“ _You look good, Stray_ ,” Hana says in Korean, which isn’t strictly true; the shadows under his eyes are deep, and at his grimace she’s pretty sure he knows she’s lying through her teeth. She’s being honest, though, when she adds, “ _I’m glad you could make it._ ”

“ _My handler is none too happy about it,_ ” Stray replies haltingly, “ _But it’s nice to get out for once._ ” A beat passes. “ _So. What’s the plan?_ ”

“ _Right now? There isn’t one_ ,” Hana says, and Stray raises an eyebrow at her. She glances a bit ahead and to her left, where Lúcio is unpacking his equipment and painstakingly setting it up, piece by piece. 76 is standing on the corner of the stage, pulse rifle strapped to his back, and there’s a woman working alongside the DJ – his manager, Hana thinks – but otherwise it’s just Lúcio, humming cheerily to himself in a wide, empty stadium that will be filled with people by the end of the night tomorrow, and she looks back to Stray. “ _Lúcio and I are going to dinner later today. We’re bringing you with us, and that’s when we’re going to figure out what we’re going to do if anything happens._ ”

Stray’s eyebrow crawls further up into his hairline. “ _How are you going to ditch my handler?_ ” His eyes flick over to 76. “ _And who is that?_ ”

“ _Don’t worry about it, and that’s our bodyguard,_ ” Hana says.

“ _I’ve never seen such a rifle._ ”

That would be because it’s technically not supposed to be outside of the lab 76 had stolen it from in Watchpoint: Grand Mesa, at least according to 76 himself, but Hana isn’t about to tell him that. Instead, she shrugs in answer and changes the subject. “ _You have your pistols?_ ”

“ _Only one on me right now_ ,” Stray says, dipping his head as he moves with her digression, one hand absently rising to his side; he’s got a shoulder-holster, as she had guessed, hidden by the looseness of his zip-up sweater. “ _I also need to unpack my gaming equipment at some point. You as well, since I can’t see it anywhere._ ”

“ _We need to wait until Lúcio finishes up. He’s the star of the show – we’re the pre-show, basically. Intermission, at the end, that’s when we’re up._ _All of our stuff has to be out of the way of his._ ”

“ _Not even the biggest crowd we’ve played_ Starcraft _for,_ ” Stray says with the slightest flash of a smile. It looks forced and Hana is struck, not for the first time, of her image of him from the last time she’d seen him and who he is now. “ _Will I have to speak English?_ ”

“ _We will be mic’d. If you do not want to, I will take care of it so that you can speak Korean._ ”

“ _I appreciate it_.”

There’s a moment of stillness after that, two lonely soldiers who stand apart and watch Lúcio hum to himself, together but not, linked by their shared experiences but not much else – and Hana sees Stray refocus his attention elsewhere, beyond to 76, so she follows his glance, seeing the man scanning the area restlessly with his arms crossed over his chest. Alone on a pedestal, placed there and left there, and Hana reaches out and nudges her elbow lightly against Stray’s side to get his attention.

“ _He’s something of a father figure to me_ ,” Hana says. “ _You can trust him_.”

“ _I knew that from the start_ ,” Stray says; at her look, he nods in 76’s direction, specifically at the pink sidearm at his hip, and says, “ _He’s carrying your gun. You never let anyone touch your weapons back in Korea._ ”

Hana barks out a startled laugh at that and feels a pang of what she’s missed, all the way back home where a giant omnic lies in wait, where human-omnic relations are so strained it may soon snap, where North Korea is still a threat – but where her squadmates would sneak out at night, prank their handlers, stay up late to gossip and game. Different worlds, different pros and cons, and Hana wonders if Stray, too, ever regrets going pro as a gamer. He’s older than her by a few years, and she thinks she’ll probably never know.

“ _Bet my aim is better than yours_ ,” she says after a while.

“ _You’re assuming we’re going to have an opportunity to test that theory_ ,” Stray says, and finally, at her cutting smirk, he grins, vicious and sharp. They’re soldiers, after all, and Hana knows that he has her back.

* * *

“This is Symmetra, my other bodyguard,” Hana says a few hours later, standing just inside the stadium. Across from her, the architech gives a customary nod, eyes veiled. “Symmetra, this is Stray. He is a MEKA pilot like me.” Stray bows his head slightly as he lets out a polite greeting in Korean. Satya does the same in turn, also in her home language – Hindi, Hana thinks, but she’s not sure, as she turns to Lúcio across from her. “I’m sure you know Lúcio already.”

“Jae-woo insisted I get your autograph,” Stray says in halting English, quickly followed by something akin to a sigh.

“Way ahead of you,” Hana says, and then to Lúcio, “Remind me to grab the poster tomorrow.”

“Is Jae-woo the meme guy?”

Hana had completely forgotten that was MIM’s name, considering she had only ever called him MIM on the field, but, as it stands – “Jae-woo is, in fact, the meme guy.”

“When you see him, tell him he’s pretty cute,” Lúcio tells Stray, who looks comically taken aback before nodding, once. Satya covers a smile with one hand, and then, wonders of all wonders, Lúcio glances directly at her and says neutrally, “Suppose you’re in charge of getting us to the restaurant, then?”

“Indeed,” Satya says, and if she’s startled by Lúcio’s odd lack of animosity, she doesn’t show it. “The Commander should be with us shortly. Once he is, we should be able to proceed without further delay.”

76, currently, is speaking with some of the omnics and humans gathered around the stage. Lúcio’s manager is beside him, and if Hana is interpreting it correctly, they’re going over security measures. It probably helps that 76 is extremely intimidating on his own, or at least the staff is nodding firmly at whatever he is saying.

“ _He’s a commander?_ ” Stray asks Hana in Korean, snapping her out of her observations.

“ _He’s our commander_ ,” Hana amends, cocking an eyebrow when he does. “ _Is it that surprising?_ ”

“ _Slightly. He appears to be rather old. I would not have expected –_ ” Stray pauses, and Hana’s stomach coils in dread as his brows furrow, as if he’d realized something. MEKA had been aware of the USA’s super-soldier program, and if he guessed that now, then there was no telling when he would figure out 76’s true identity, but then – “ _Wait, where is my handler?_ ”

“ _Excellent question_ ,” Hana says, relief making her grin a little wider and toothier than she had originally intended. Her mind had run away with a single thought again, and Stray furrows his brow at her, looking a mix between worried and as if holding back a laugh. “ _You should ask our commander when you have the time_.”

Whatever Stray is going to say to that is cut off when 76 finishes his discussion with the crew onstage and makes his way over to join them, forgoing the stairs in favor of hopping down and crossing the green turf. Hana can see what Stray meant; 76’s disguise does make him look younger, but the impressive scars and lines across his face bely his age. Even Hana’s not sure how old he is, honestly, and she doesn’t dwell on it as Satya takes the lead, Stray, Lúcio, and herself between the architech and 76. Somewhere, in the distance, Hanzo and Genji are watching, and Hana knows Ana’s already at the restaurant, set up high in her perch and keeping an eye on the streets.

... There’s a prickle of unease at the back of her neck nonetheless. She thinks it might just be paranoia, but – the thought of Reaper is enough to get her on edge, and she pushes ahead and silently asks Satya permission to loop her hand through the woman’s elbow with a glance, which Satya equally quietly grants. It’s her flesh arm and the warmth against her palm and fingers keeps Hana grounded, and she forcibly relaxes her shoulders and straightens her spine, breathing out in a short huff before carefully measuring her breaths, slow and even.

“I will not try to tell you to relax,” Satya murmurs to her after a few moments, heels clicking on the sidewalk as they exit the stadium. She’s barely audible over the shouts and screams echoing from a few streets down; the crowd has been contained further away, for now, and soon Hana and Lúcio will have their game faces back on and her small bit of respite will be over, and Hana nods, small, as Satya tells her, “You are safe. We will protect you, and you can protect yourself. Your mech is one teleporter away.”

“Right,” she breathes, exhaling hard. She can feel Stray’s eyes on her, even as Lúcio senses her discomfort and engages him in conversation, easy as can be. She keeps her gaze focused straight ahead and hates how leaving the stadium is enough to get her this off-kilter, this scared and stupidly readable and literally they’ve walked for maybe a minute and her heartrate is starting to go up, her mind reminding her of all the things that _could go wrong, what if, what if, what if_. “Right,” she says to herself, a bit more firmly, but it doesn’t help.

( _Focus_ , D.Va says. _Seventy-six is right behind you. So is Lúcio. Satya is here. Genji and Hanzo are watching. Ana is here. Focus,_ focus _, on that._ )

“Sorry,” she says instead, her voice low enough that it’s a whisper, and she’s not sure if she’s apologizing to Satya or herself. Presently Satya doesn’t respond, merely reaches up her prosthetic hand to gently place it over Hana’s own, just for a moment, before it moves to rest at her side again, and Hana wishes she could have even an ounce of the calm the architech exudes as the crowd’s roar grows louder and she tightens her grip on Satya’s arm. “Okay,” she says, even quieter than before, and then she lets go, pulls back her shoulders, and falls in between Lúcio and Stray, looping her arms through both of theirs.

“ _Great, publicity stunts_ ,” Stray grumbles in Korean, to which Hana rolls her eyes and Lúcio raises an eyebrow, silently asking for translation. “I hate these,” Stray clarifies, and Lúcio’s laugh is short and harsh.

“The restaurant’s been blocked off, I think,” Lúcio says. “With any luck, we won’t be swamped too bad. Cross your fingers.”

Turning the corner causes the noise level to increase tenfold, and Hana feels rather than sees 76 press close, muttering into his comm as Satya continues to stride forward, tall and confident, local authorities helping to carve a path through the sheer number of people. Languages from all over the world pelt her ears, and she smiles and laughs and plays her part with Lúcio as Stray remains grave and stoic, as his public persona has been crafted to be. It’s an effort to keep her movements fluid, as if her muscles aren’t trying to tense up and make her movements stiff, but she doesn’t lose composure, she doesn’t drop the smile, and she thankfully doesn’t have to wave because her arms are occupied with her companions’. It’s the little things, she’s found, and so they walk, and so she goes.

When they reach the restaurant ( _finally_ ), they find it empty, with a single table set, one that’s away from windows, tucked into a corner. Their server is deft and quiet, leading them to said table and completely ignoring the fact that she’s serving two celebrities, and 76 briefly takes her aside to converse about something as Stray, Lúcio, Satya and Hana take their seats.

The menu is... is this French? The expensive-looking piece of card is scrawled with a haughty, illegible cursive so fine and thin that Hana can barely discern the text from the paper itself. Stray glances it over before side-eying Hana and putting it aside with a shrug; Satya silently mouths the words to herself as she reads, brows furrowed ever so slightly, and Lúcio sets the menu on the table, leans forward, and says conspiratorially, “I have no idea what any of this says.”

“Give it here,” 76 says without warning - apparently he’s finished scaring off the server, though he would deny that was what he’d been doing if asked, Hana is sure of it - and without hesitation she hands him her menu, watching him flick through it with practiced ease. “Lúcio, you okay with fish and-or spicy things?”

“Yeah, spicy is good, fish is fine.”

76 proceeds to read a few things off of the menu to himself in what Hana would probably say is atrocious French, passable enough to be understood but marking him as a foreigner. “That’d probably work. Could also try something else.”

And so it goes - 76 pokes and prods until even Stray gives up his preferences, and then he orders for them while Satya, amused, requests for her dish on her own, her French clearly rusty but much more beautiful than whatever 76 was spewing. The server scuttles away as soon as she’s heard everything, and then 76 leans against the wall near the table, facing the door, and Satya, Hana, Lúcio and Stray are left to converse.

Hana’s braced for an awkward time, full of long silences and light smalltalk until she and Lúcio can discuss a plan without any chance of being overheard. Instead, Stray turns to her and says in Korean, point-blank, “ _I can’t stay here for the whole tour._ ”

“ _What?_ ” Hana says, and she would have sounded surprised had Stray’s voice not been so urgent and low, his eyes flicking all around the restaurant. _Searching,_ she realizes, and she reaches out to grip his arm, ignorant of how Lúcio and Satya and 76 are watching their exchange with varying levels of concern.

“ _My handler -_ our _handlers - they plan on taking you back when this is all said and done,_ ” Stray says in a rush; “ _My job is to watch you. I’ll be keeping close to your side because I’m supposed to monitor your behaviors and figure out when and where is an appropriate moment to move. Your handler is here, somewhere, and she’s going to make it seem like you left on your own accord. Plans have been put into place to make sure Overwatch doesn’t strike back._ ”

“ _Are you serious?_ ” Hana says, and then, because Stray has always been direct and straightforward and rarely, rarely lies, “ _Why? How?_ ”

“ _You know why_ ,” Stray says, furrowing his brow at her, “ _You’re the most effective squad leader and MEKA pilot we have, not to mention all the positive publicity you brought to us. Losing you was a major blow in terms of recruitment. South Korea is going to need you when the omnic attacks, and you’ll be out of touch with your squadmates if you return too late. Training never ends, you know this._ ”

“ _Right, but - how are they planning to do this?_ ”

“ _I don’t know_ ,” Stray says, shrugging helplessly, eyes flashing with trepidation. “ _They didn’t tell me. I’m just supposed to figure out when a good time to take you away is. That’s all. Then my handler and I will go back to Korea and MEKA takes care of the rest._ ”

She’s still gripping his arm, her knuckles gleaming pale under her skin as she wrinkles the fabric of his sweater, and the panic is starting to flutter her heartbeat, make her breathing become short and uneven. She stares at him, eyes roaming his face, checking for any sign that he’s lying - but he isn’t, that much she thinks she can tell, Stray is a shit liar anyway and that’s the reason her superiors must have sent him, not because he’s level-headed but because they hadn’t thought he would tell her anything about this.

“ _Thank you for telling me_ ,” she says to him, ignoring how her voice is pitched several notes higher than usual.

“ _Thank you for trusting me_ ,” he answers, and then, pointing to her pocket, to her phone, “ _Your squad - they don’t know. The moment the handlers know I’ve told you, I’m_ \- ” he breathes out, breathes in - “ _I knew the consequences going in. You can tell your squad if you want, but the ramifications they might face is... are severe. They might be able to help, but they need to be careful._ ”

“ _Don’t go back_ ,” Hana says; “ _You’ll be safe in Overwatch._ ”

“ _I can’t leave,_ ” Stray says, and then laughs, bitter. By now, their dinner companions have picked up on their shared unease and are listening intently, though they don’t understand a word. “ _You know what MEKA does to soldiers who step out of line. My family, they’re not safe unless I stay._ ”

And that’s when Hana remembers why she had always been the risk-taker, the sassy one, the pilot who talked back and caused trouble and didn’t give a shit back in Korea - because MEKA couldn’t hold her back, couldn’t hold her under the threat of her family. She never really had one, or she did but she didn’t really care about them, and the only thing holding her to the organization was her sense of honor, of courage and loyalty to her squadmates and country. It’s different for Stray and the others. It’s...

( _The difference distance makes_ , D.Va whispers.)

“ _We’ll figure something out_ ,” Hana tells him, loosening her grip on his sleeve. “ _Just pretend you haven’t told me, we’ll take care of everything else._ ”

Stray nods, wordless, and looks down and away, effectively cutting off all communication, tabling the discussion for the foreseeable future. Hana grimaces and glances over at 76, tilting her head just a bit to the side, indicating that she needs to talk to him; with a quick reassurance to her dining companions that _she’s fine, she’ll explain later_ , she gets up and 76 follows her some distance away, down the hallway towards the bathrooms - no windows, her back to the camera so no one can see her face.

“There is something terrible that might happen,” she says as a preface.

“Of course there is,” 76 answers with a sigh, angling his body so he, too, has his back to the security camera hooked to the ceiling. “It’s not Talon this time, though, is it?”

She doesn’t even have to answer that, and 76 listens as she begins to speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: costumebleh asked me while i was writing the chapter (she watches me write on occasion) if i knew how long this op section would be, to which my response was as follows: "i have no idea." this was immediately followed by "legit, i have no idea." are all y'all sure you want me driving this car now??
> 
> anyway - stray! totally an oc. just made him up on the spot, pretty much, with some input from my beta/cheerreaders, and he has now fulfilled his entire purpose in this fic. good job stray! we're proud of you!
> 
> hmm, not much else to say, i don't think. i'll be on overwatch pretty late for the next couple of days, though, so you may be able to catch me and play online! my battletag is in the faq on my tumblr.
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- 76 and zenyatta are almost constantly at odds with each other - not in a bad way, though. it's more that 76 knows how much of a troll zenyatta can be and is constantly trying to catch the monk in the act; so far he hasn't had much luck  
> \- ana and hana have a great time confusing people with their names. it gets to the point where anyone will call 'ana' or 'hana' and both will respond. eventually overwatch agents just call for them by last name (to which ana and fareeha start to do it, too, and then everyone just gets frustrated and calls hana 'd.va' and ana 'scary sniper' or something along those lines)  
> \- bastion and winston usually keep each other company if winston is staying up late working. winston appreciates it because knowing there's a mobile turret chilling and watching his six is a weight off of his shoulders, allowing him to focus entirely on the task at hand  
> \- lúcio and tracer did race once. tracer lost because lúcio wall-climbed, effectively creating his own shortcut, and she's still salty about it  
> \- mccree, mercy, and reinhardt once took on an op by themselves, with mercy and reinhardt sticking close to the payload while mccree ran about wreaking havoc in enemy lines. the mission was so successful it was written down and used as an example for teamwork in overwatch training, but they never worked together like that again because mccree was pulled more deeply into blackwatch affairs  
> \- symmetra and hanzo like to go on long walks together to gossip and such, but they also have begun teaching each other their home languages just for kicks and giggles. as such, symmetra can understand japanese to some extent, and hanzo wouldn't be completely lost in certain parts of south india  
> \- torbjörn and genji get along professionally, but genji makes a point of leaving his visor on when interacting with him just to screw with him. torb doesn't really have anything against cyborgs (considering his own arm and eye), but genji's omnic appearance unsettles him greatly  
> \- widowmaker dislikes the outfit talon assigned to her because it has absolutely no support for her boobs (@male-oriented friends sans boobs: yes, boob punches hurt, and yes, not having support for them while you're running and jumping around as widowmaker would is painful af), so reaper made her the huntress outfit. she would never tell him thank you to his face, but he knows.


	65. OPERATION: SYNAESTHESIA AUDITIVIA (part 2 of 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MEKA is hiding something, but nothing can stop the progress of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so in other news, i got very sick on sunday and recovered - miraculously - by tuesday. mostly. i lost my voice on monday but it came back after i hacked my lungs out, and i managed to catch the pinkeye before it could get really bad, so now i'm mostly good to go! 
> 
> _huge_ thanks to roguevector this chapter, since we finally sat down and figured out how MEKA could theoretically be structured, military-wise. also for just being a good beta in general and pointing out errors and things  <3 and of course to costumebleh for being an excellent cheerreader and handing out ideas that i could use. love you both!!
> 
> i hope you're having an excellent day today, and that your week is just as good c:

“ _Of course the whole op has been compromised from the very beginning_ ,” Winston says, sighing. His chin drops until it falls into his palm, lips pulled into a grimace as one of his feet and one of his hands types, unseen, outside the contours of the holovid. “ _Hana, you said your squadmate told you this?_ ”

“He was never my squadmate,” Hana corrects before realizing it hardly matters, and instead she nods and says, “Yes. He is to be trusted.”

The hotel room has been closed off – settled in the spacious bathroom is Hana, 76, Stray, and Lúcio, all huddled around a single datapad that is transmitting the exhausted face of their fearless gorilla leader. The lights are dimmed and the window is shuttered; Lúcio and 76 have swept the room for bugs and isolated their internet connections, Satya, Ana, Genji and Hanzo are listening over comm while Satya keeps guard at the door outside, and everything is as secure as it can be. Yet even with all of these precautions, Hana presses close to 76; there’s little comfort to be found in a room where the atmosphere is heavy and tense on her shoulders.

In the meantime, Stray twitches, just slightly, at Hana’s admission; she takes the nudge of his elbow against her upper back as a silent _thank you_.

“ _I’m surprised MEKA is being this bold. They do know we’ve been officially recognized as a world taskforce, right?_ ”

“It is much more complicated than that,” Hana says, and she can feel rather than see 76 turn his head to look at her. “They have little choice at the end of the day. I am their top pilot, if you have forgotten.”

“ _They haven’t raised a fuss until now_ ,” Winston points out. “ _If they’re so desperate for you, they should have contacted us sooner._ ”

Stray snorts, an inelegant sound, and says in accented English, respectful but disdainful, “You do not know the half of it, sir.”

Winston doesn’t sound impatient but he is definitely expectant as he says, “ _Then explain it to me._ ”

A simple request, and one that has, for an answer, a rant in fast and frenzied Korean; Hana has been witness to it before. Yet Stray opens his mouth, closes it, and when Hana looks over to him, confused as to why he hasn’t yet said a word, his expression is thoughtful but frustrated. It’s a long moment when he meets her eyes, and when he does, he says, “ _I cannot explain it in English._ ”

“ _I have a translator_ ,” Winston says, reaching out to tap what is probably his screen. Hana hadn’t known that, and she immediately starts thinking back to previous conversations to try and remember if she’s muttered something insulting in Korean that the gorilla may have been able to pick up, as Winston goes on, “ _Our comms can also be used as translators in a pinch, though they aren’t very accurate_.”

Stray makes a grunt of assent and leans forward, grave face lit up blue by the holovid, posture tense and eyes wide and piercing. Hana shuffles aside to give him more room, and he accepts it with a nod in her direction before saying in Korean, “ _Hana is our top pilot and our best soldier. She has never once lost a member of her squad. She has never been shot down in the field._ ” Inhale, in which he pinches the bridge of his nose, and then he says, “ _Has she ever explained how her defense matrix works?_ ”

“Stray,” Hana says with a sigh, but nope, the man’s on a roll, as she had predicted earlier. Though this is what _always_ happen when someone looks down at her and anyone from MEKA is within earshot – honestly, it happens whenever someone looks down on a MEKA pilot, period, but she’s often the most targeted because of her age and gender, so it hardly matters – it’s never not embarrassing, and her hand against his shoulder is ignored in favor of staring even harder at the screen before them.

Regardless, when Winston shakes his head, Hana grimaces and Stray shoots her an exasperated glance, rolling his eyes as he turns forward and explains, “ _Her matrix does not flick bullets away from her; she is manually controlling lasers and intercepting bullets as they come forward, redirecting them and rendering them harmless. Her fastest record is two-hundred forty bullets._ ” Pause. “ _In one second._ ”

“Holy shit,” Lúcio mutters, apparently using his comm to translate and thus listen in as well, and Hana ducks her head, purposefully avoiding his gaze. 76, at her side, has said nothing, but she knows that if she looked at his face she would be able to tell what he’s thinking as he shifts his weight.

“ _Did you tell them nothing, D.Va?_ ”

“It never came up.”

Stray’s disbelief is palpable and he rocks back on his heels. “ _Your squad is going to be so disappointed_.”

“ _They don’t know_ ,” Hana says, briefly switching to Korean. “ _Apple would’ve tried to message everyone in Overwatch if she had known, just to send them my stats. I didn’t want to risk my new bosses getting confused._ ”

“ _I still can barely believe this_ ,” Stray mutters, and then he turns back to the holovid. “ _It’s not as if D.Va’s numbers are kept secret. Blizzard in particular revels in showing her off._ ”

“You think any of us really care about what APM means?” 76 says tiredly, which is hilarious because that means 76 actually looked at her page and read through it, but also - she shakes her head, astounded, because he had struck her to be the type to play FPS games, and the fact he doesn’t care for what APM stands for is a little shocking. “It’s not like Hana’s let us come close to even look her mech over to begin with.”

“ _Let me just put it this way,_ ” Stray says, leaning forward on the bathroom counter, closer to where the datapad is propped up. “ _D.Va doesn’t really play_ Starcraft _when she goes to competitions. She just shows up to remind all of us why she’s the top player in the world._ ”

“Stray - ”

“ _You know it’s true_ ,” Stray says, and then she flushes when he mimics her, in English, “Are you even trying?”

“Stop,” she says, shoving his shoulder, unable to keep a frown on her face when he grins. It’s the happiest she’s seen him in a long time, and she’s not about to take that away from him. “I do not sound like that.”

“Winky face,” he says, ducking under her halfhearted whack, and then he laughs and she laughs and for a moment she’s able to forget the weight pressing down on her.

“I thought you were exaggerating,” Lúcio says once she’s regained her composure, giving Hana what looks to be a betrayed glance. It looks ridiculous, because he also appears to be shocked, either at Stray’s words or the fact he’s able to joke about things, Hana’s not sure. “Why do you practice all the time, then?”

“Streaming?” she says dryly, and Stray snorts.

“As amusing as this is,” 76 says, gently bumping the side of Hana’s head with his knuckles, “This isn’t the point of this call.” She smiles at him and the corner of his lips lift up in return, though his attention quickly refocuses on Winston as he asks, “What do you think we should do?”

Winston, in turn, grunts, pulling a datapad into his hand, flicking through it briefly before setting it aside. “ _We’ll need to pull you out of there as soon as possible,_ ” Winston says, and though it sends a pang of disappointment down Hana’s spine, she knows he’s right. “ _I won’t go into how because of Stray, though. Sorry._ ”

“ _I understand_ ,” Stray says with a nod. “ _It is better that I do not know. If it helps, I will leave the room - I need to rendezvous with my handler regardless. Unless he is still, er, occupied._ ”

“ _He’s resting in his hotel room_ ,” Hanzo says over comm.

“ _It’s a very nice hotel room_ ,” Genji says.

“ _He will continue to rest until Stray arrives_ ,” Ana adds. One of them snickers, and it’s unclear who. They all sound too smug regardless; even Hana’s not sure what exactly went down to get Stray’s handler out of the picture, but she has no illusions that the three of them weren’t involved.

“He’s in his hotel room,” 76 says to Stray, because he doesn’t have a comm, and then, “Do you need an escort?”

“I would say no, but perhaps that is not the best idea,” Stray says, giving a perfunctory nod at Hana’s surprised look. It’s a wonder how much he’s changed since she’d seen him last, and it’s - it’s good to see he’s started to become more careful, more deliberate. “Thank you.”

“See you tomorrow,” Lúcio says with an absent wave, 76 straightening up to his full height, rifle hooked onto his back as he leads the way out. Stray spares only enough time to gesture the MEKA sign for _goodbye_ to Hana, a quick salute with a finger-gun instead of flat fingers and palm that she returns, and then it’s her and Lúcio with Winston, everyone else listening over comms as 76 and Stray’s footsteps fade away, a soft murmur of Satya’s voice briefly echoing through the room before all is silent again.

“I’m surprised he’s been so reasonable about all of this,” Lúcio says after a few seconds, eyebrows furrowing. “Stray doesn’t look like the type to really... care, I guess.”

“MEKA pilots are close,” Hana says by way of explanation, deciding not to elaborate, and then, “Winston?”

Winston adjusts his glasses on his nose, expression veiled as he hefts yet another datapad in his hand. Hana can see one cradled between his toes, too, and wonders if he ever rests as he says, “ _There are several ways we could go about doing this. I’ll run them by all of you first, and then we can decide on the best course of action._ ”

And so it goes. Everyone agrees that Hana, at the very least, needs to be present for Lúcio’s concert in Numbani - the beginning, the intermission, the end. It would probably be dangerous, given that that would mean she would be in one location over a period of days, but tickets had sold to see both D.Va and Lúcio in tandem; it would be a poor idea indeed to have Hana leave without seeing the event through.

“This will make it easier to get you out afterwards,” Winston adds, flicking through his datapad. “Lúcio will be on his way to his next venue, and we can shuttle you off back to Gibraltar when he needs to change planes. Leaving right after his concert ends might raise suspicions, not to mention you wouldn’t have your full entourage with you.”

“ _We’re an entourage now?_ ” Genji says. “ _Look at us work our way up in the world,_ anija _._ ”

“ _What an upgrade_ ,” Hanzo agrees, all dry wit and sarcasm. “ _First invisible bodyguards, now invisible entourage_.”

“ _At least you could take this more seriously_ ,” Ana says. “ _Hana’s life is on the line, in case you’ve forgotten._ ”

Winston lets out a bark of a laugh at that, and the Shimada brothers, properly chastised, fall silent. Hana can’t help her giggle, either, though the gravity of Ana’s words pull at her shoulders; Lúcio must notice, because he slips an arm around her in an almost-hug as the gorilla goes on to say, “ _In any case, we have several options available to us, besides placing Hana on a different aircraft when she and Lúcio touch down to switch planes._ ”

“How will we transport my mech if we are taking commercial airlines?” Hana asks, leaning against Lúcio and wishing, a bit tiredly, that she could be a little less dependent on others. Eventually, she knows, but she’d rather sooner than later.

“ _Lena will be picking you up, naturally_ ,” Winston says. “ _Currently, it’s a matter of whether we’ll put Lena in charge of Lúcio’s transportation as well. This would make it safer for both of you, and for Lúcio once he’s on his own, but it also means we’ll be down an agent back here._ ”

“She did mention she wanted to see the concert live,” Lúcio points out. “If nothing else, she won’t say no.”

“ _That’s what I’m afraid of_ ,” Winston says with a wry grin. “ _She’ll do her job, of course, but she’ll find a way to watch your concert as well - and we can’t afford the distraction._ _But regardless, she will definitely be there to secure your mech, Hana._ ”

“Understood.”

“ _In any case, that’s option one. We could also shuffle you off via land transport, just to further throw off any tails. Jesse would be accompanying you in that case, since he’s experienced in that particular form of travel. Later on, Lena would pick you up via aircraft. Option three is that we could do the entire trip by land, though that would take time and potentially put you at more risk given it would over public transport._ ”

“Everyone would know her face,” Lúcio says. “Flying’s the safest bet.”

“ _Aerial travel could be dangerous_ ,” Genji says, voice crackling over comm. “ _Lena said that Widowmaker pinpointed exact weaknesses in her aircraft and shot them in Eichenwalde. Even if the journey is short, the threat is there._ ”

“ _Land transport is little better_ ,” Hanzo counters, uneasy. “ _There would be crowds and, as Lúcio_ _said, Hana would be easily identified. It might be all right considering Agent Oxton will have picked up Hana’s mech and could potentially act as decoy, but that would in turn put her life in danger._ ”

Ana hums thoughtfully. The others fall expectantly silent, and Hana remembers the woman used to be Jack Morrison’s second-in-command of Overwatch; she’s used to support roles and she is fiendishly clever, and Hana has to hold back a snicker when she says, “ _Jack and Hana could easily pose as a father and his daughter_. _We would need to perform appropriate changes in Hana’s appearance, give how recognizable she is, but it could be done._ ”

“ _That could work_ ,” Winston murmurs, and then, with a small smile, “ _I’m sure neither of you would have any complaints._ ”

“ _It’s a risky plan_ ,” 76’s voices comes over comm, briefly. “ _I’ll do whatever you all think is best, either way._ ”

“My thoughts exactly,” Hana says with a nod.

“ _Such a commander, Commander_ ,” Ana says, mocking, but also - chiding, Hana thinks, but she can’t be sure. 76 merely grunts in response before his comm goes dead again, and then Ana says, “ _Do we know who will be accompanying Lúcio on his trip, Winston, and who will be going with Hana?_ ”

“ _I was intending to leave that up to you to decide_ ,” Winston says. “ _It’s a given that Jack will go with Hana. That leaves you, Hanzo, Genji, and Symmetra to decide where to go._ ”

“ _I must stay with Lúcio_ ,” Satya says, voice cool and neutral. Per usual, she sounds calm and collected, even as she says, somewhat hesitantly, “ _It was part of the agreement drawn with Vishkar, if I recall. It will also grant Lúcio a large degree of protection by extension, as I will be able to call upon Vishkar aid if necessary._ ”

“They won’t attack me on sight?” Lúcio asks, and he sounds merely disbelieving rather than accusatory.

“ _If they do, I will do my utmost to protect you,_ ” Satya says, sounding just slightly amused as she says, “ _That is what I am being paid for, at any rate._ ”

“Not to protect _me_ , that much I know,” Lúcio says with a snort.

“ _Vishkar is paying me to perform my duty for Overwatch, and Overwatch has decided that I am to protect you and Hana._ ” Hana can hear Satya shrugging here, a delicate lift of her shoulder, and she can also hear the smirk as she adds, “ _Vishkar could not fault me for that, though they will try._ ”

“ _Have you ever considered becoming a lawyer?_ ” Hanzo inquires, and Satya’s laugh is soft but present. Lúcio raises an eyebrow at that, and Hana is relieved to find he doesn’t say a word; at long last, he seems to be allowing Satya one last chance to prove herself, and the result is that, at the very least, Hana has less of a headache to deal with.

“ _I will accompany Lúcio as well,_ ” Ana says, bringing them back to the subject at hand. “ _I have a feeling support will be more useful in that area, as I can provide him with healing from afar. That skill will not be necessary if I were to travel with Hana and Jack._ ”

“ _If that’s the case, then I will go with Hana and the commander,_ ” Hanzo says; “ _We do not need more than one sniper, I don’t think._ ” The rest goes unsaid - that Lúcio wasn’t fond of him and this would give the archer a convenient way out.

“ _Then I will remain with Lúcio_ ,” Genji concludes, and then, with an amused, almost self-deprecating tone, “ _I will be an interesting piece of eye candy, to say the least._ ”

“ _That is assuming you are attractive enough to be eye candy_ ,” Hanzo says.

“ _You wound me,_ anija. _You wouldn’t believe how many omnics and humans I’ve had to reject over the years._ ”

“ _You didn’t necessarily have to reject them, Genji._ ”

Genji laughs. “ _Touché._ ”

“ _If you’re both done_ ,” Winston says, smiling, and the brothers fall mostly silent, still snickering, “ _I’ll talk to you all tomorrow once I’ve discussed ideas with those on base. Hopefully we’ll be able to come to a conclusive plan by the time I speak with you next. Don’t forget to send in your daily reports._ ” Various murmurs of assent travel through comm, Lúcio and Hana included, and then the gorilla finishes, “ _Have fun tomorrow with the concert. Try not to make our reputation worse._ ”

“Please,” Hana says with a prideful smile. “Lúcio and I are professionals. We will be fine, especially considering those who are watching our backs.”

Satya laughs quietly, appreciative. Genji, of course, says, “ _See,_ anija, _if you could just compliment people like Hana, maybe no one would think you’re such a boring, emotionless stick-in-the-mud._ ”

“ _Be silent, Genji._ ”

“ _Children, behave_.”

“ _Best of luck_ ,” Winston says with an exasperated shake of his head, and with that, he ends the call, Hanzo and Genji continue to bicker lightheartedly in her ear, and then Lúcio’s shoved the bathroom door open, already shouting about how the beds need to be jumped on, and Hana is right on his heels, shoulders still coiled tight and unease still curling in her stomach - but she’ll be okay, she knows, breathing out a huff of air as she throws herself onto the comforters, a giggle working its way out of her throat when Lúcio yelps, having forgotten to take off his skates. Talon can’t reach her in this soft bed surrounded by friends, dark tendrils thrown back with their light, and for now she lets the warmth settle in her skin and _everything_ , D.Va says, _will be fine_.

* * *

[ . . . ]

[takes22tango]: So basically, MEKA is going behind all of our backs right now.  
[takes22tango]: And to do that, they’ve sent Stray to keep an eye on you and to tell them when to try and grab you.  
[takes22tango]: And once they do _that_ , they’re going to spirit you back here.  
[takes22tango]: That’s their plan?  
[Stray]: Yes. That’s the plan.  
[AppleCIder]: what kind of BULLSHIT is this.  
[AppleCIder]: what the fuck man.  
[MIM]: fucking shitheads i’m gonna fucking murder our handlers  
[MIM]: this is low even for them  
[MIM]: not that we don’t want you back d.va because we do but WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT  
[takes22tango]: I’m confused on how they thought they would pull this off without Overwatch flipping out.  
[takes22tango]: I mean, yes, D.Va’s been keeping out of the public eye since she officially announced joining Overwatch, but still.  
[D.Va]: i’ve been streaming pretty consistently. people know what i’ve been up to.  
[Stray]: My handler told me that this was our only chance. D.Va is too well-protected otherwise.  
[Stray]: But I don’t think kidnapping is the best way to do things.  
[D.Va]: yeah i’ve already been kidnapped once this year i’m good  
[MIM]: HOLD THE FUCK UP WHAT  
[AppleCIder]: yeah what the hell! when did that happen???  
[D.Va]: it’s a long story and now’s not the time  
[MIM]: i’m filing that under things you have to tell when you get back  
[MIM]: when you get back in a way that allows you to actually consent to it i mean =_=  
[AppleCIder]: i’m gonna poke around the handlers’ emails again. brb.

[ AppleCIder has left 도대체 ]

[Stray]: Be care  
[Stray]: And she’s gone.  
[D.Va]: apple will be fine  
[D.Va]: she’s done this a million times before  
[MIM]: i’d be more worried about you stray  
[MIM]: have they figured out that you spilled the beans or  
[Stray]: Not yet. But it’s just a matter of time.  
[Stray]: I was hesitant to tell you three because of possible consequences that might befall you. But D.Va insisted.  
[takes22tango]: Have a little faith; we’ve worked with D.Va for years.  
[takes22tango]: We’ve done riskier things than this.  
[Stray]: They’re holding my parents hostage.  
[takes22tango]: ... Shit.  
[MIM]: under penalty of what  
[Stray]: What do you think?  
[MIM]: are you fucking serious  
[MIM]: WHAT THE HELL  
[MIM]: HOW IS IT POSSIBLE THAT THINGS HAVE GOTTEN *MORE* FUCKED UP THAN BEFORE  
[takes22tango]: They’ve never done that before. Are you sure?  
[Stray]: I can’t even pretend to joke about this.  
[Stray]: Just...  tread carefully. They aren’t messing around this time.  
[D.Va]: oh my god  
[D.Va]: i had no idea  
[D.Va]: stray are you sure they’ll be okay  
[Stray]: Like I said. I knew the risks going in. And so did my parents.  
[D.Va]: but why do this? why help me? you used to hate me  
[Stray]: I was jealous. There’s a difference.  
[Stray]: But yeah. I’m not doing this strictly for you.  
[takes22tango]: I figured.  
[takes22tango]: In fact, I can probably guess your motivations.  
[MIM]: as long as he doesn’t actually hurt d.va idc what happens  
[MIM]: this whole situation pisses me off so much holy shit  
[Stray]: D.Va, we’re going to need you to fight the Omnic.  
[Stray]: You won’t do that unless you’re willing. That’s just the way it is.  
[Stray]: Unlike us, the only thing keeping you tied to MEKA is your loyalty to the cause.  
[Stray]: If MEKA drags you back here, nothing is going to happen. You’ll run again. Overwatch will learn of it. It will make us look bad.  
[Stray]: But MEKA just doesn’t get that. We’re soldiers. We do as we’re told. They think as soon as they pull you back, you’ll fall into line.  
[Stray]: Which... doesn’t make sense. Given they know your penchant for pushing the rules.  
[Stray]: Actually, it’s very unusual, now that I’m thinking about it. MEKA wouldn’t do something this foolish.  
[takes22tango]: I was just about to say...  
[D.Va]: so what are you suggesting stray  
[MIM]: actually it’s more like what the fuck is happening  
[MIM]: he’s right meka wouldn’t ever do anything like this out of the blue  
[MIM]: not without assessing the risks  
[MIM]: so what reason do the handlers have to willingly stake so much on this?? even if it’s you d.va  
[takes22tango]: You don’t think it has something to do with all the guards around base? There’ve been so many of them lately.  
[takes22tango]: And when’s the last time we’ve seen the Boss? Like, actually.  
[MIM]: holy shit you’re right  
[Stray]: I thought they were overseas for business?  
[D.Va]: last i heard they were at a un meeting. or at least one of overwatch’s agents saw them there  
[D.Va]: that was a couple of weeks ago though  
[takes22tango]: I’ll ask my handler when I get the chance.  
[MIM]: i know i sound like a broken record at this point but _what the fuck_

[ AppleCIder has reentered 도대체 ]

[takes22tango]: Oh, you’re all right! Thank goodness.  
[MIM]: anything good apple?  
[AppleCIder]: holy shit you guys.  
[AppleCIder]: almost got my ass caught red-handed, but i managed to download a couple things before anyone found out.  
[AppleCIder]: when did the new security measures go into place??  
[Stray]: Since when did we have new security measures?  
[D.Va]: ??  
[AppleCIder]: okay whatever. i’ll just have to write new programs. should be fine.  
[AppleCIder]: that’s not the point though. just - hang on, let me attach these.

[ AppleCIder has uploaded file1.txt, file2.txt, file3.txt, file4.txt to 도대체 ]

[AppleCIder]: they’re just text files so they should be safe to open, but i’d still scan them just in case.  
[takes22tango]: Noted.  
[D.Va]: i’m on my phone rn, i’ll wait until i have my computer  
[D.Va]: could someone summarize for me?  
[AppleCIder]: it’s bad, let’s just put it that way.  
[Stray]: Holy shit.  
[MIM]: EVERY TIME I THINK THINGS CAN’T GET WORSE  
[MIM]: I SHOULD JUST SHUT MY MOUTH AT THIS POINT  
[takes22tango]: I... don’t understand how this could’ve happened.  
[takes22tango]: D.Va, these files say that we’re under new management.  
[D.Va]: no way  
[D.Va]: that’s impossible. it would’ve made national news at the very least  
[takes22tango]: We’re still funded by the government, but we’re officially “independent contractors”.  
[MIM]: wonder if that means we get a raise  
[Stray]: Somehow I think that’s the least of our concerns.  
[AppleCIder]: from what i understand, this will let sk loan us out to other places that might need us.  
[AppleCIder]: for a suitable fee, that is.  
[AppleCIder]: which is ludicrous, because the boss would never have agreed to this.  
[Stray]: Was there anything about who we might be loaned out to?  
[MIM]: near the end of the second file  
[MIM]: it got a bit corrupted but it was some organization with a name in english  
[takes22tango]: Any chance you can clean that up, Apple?  
[AppleCIder]: that would mean fetching the original file, and i can’t do that again.  
[AppleCIder]: like i said, it was a close call. i’m not going to risk it until i can get some new programs up and running.  
[Stray]: This is already more than we knew before.  
[Stray]: At least it explains why they’re going after D.Va... actually, no, it doesn’t.  
[D.Va]: does the organization start with a ‘T’?  
[MIM]: let me check  
[MIM]: not sure, but it ends with an... M? N? W?  
[takes22tango]: I can’t even tell how long the name is. Sorry, D.Va.  
[D.Va]: i guess i should assume the worst then  
[D.Va]: have you guys heard of an organization called talon  
[AppleCIder]: duh. everyone and their grandparents have heard of talon. or at least people like us have.  
[D.Va]: because if they’re the ones behind this, then that’s your reason as to why they’re going after me  
[Stray]: ... Shit.  
[MIM]: you know how i keep complaining on how this is getting worse and worse  
[MIM]: i’d really like that to stop now  
[takes22tango]: D.Va, how did you get Talon pissed off at you?  
[D.Va]: ... it’s a long story  
[MIM]: and another to add to the list  
[D.Va]: parts of it are confidential  
[D.Va]: all you really need to know is that they don’t want me for my skills, first and foremost  
[D.Va]: they’re after me to act as bait for overwatch  
[takes22tango]: Is that what you meant by the fact that you’d already been kidnapped once?  
[AppleCIder]: wait, is that related to the attack at the egyptian hospital?  
[D.Va]: yes to both  
[AppleCIder]: what the FUCK.  
[AppleCIder]: if murder wasn’t illegal when it's not war, i’d be thinking about it pretty seriously right now.  
[MIM]: new plan, we follow d.va’s example and desert while we still can  
[Stray]: Your family will die.  
[MIM]: it was a joke  
[MIM]: because what else can i do in this situation  
[MIM]: jokes and talking and killing things, that’s all i’m good for at the end of the day  
[D.Va]: haha same!! #rip  
[takes22tango]: Yeah... it does make you wonder what we can do after we’re retired from MEKA.  
[takes22tango]: But okay, we have other things to focus on. We need to figure out how to help D.Va.  
[D.Va]: worry about yourselves first, i’ll be fine on my own for the time being  
[takes22tango]: No can do, D.Va. You’ve done the same for us. Let us return the favor.  
[MIM]: ^  
[AppleCIder]: i have an idea.  
[AppleCIder]: stray, are you up for some spying?  
[Stray]: On one condition.  
[AppleCIder]: i mean, not sure if we should be negotiating in these circumstances, especially with each other, but shoot.  
[Stray]: Keep my parents alive.  
[MIM]: leave it to me  
[takes22tango]: mim...  
[MIM]: come on it’ll be fine  
[MIM]: won’t be my first time at that rodeo  
[D.Va]: please be careful mim  
[MIM]: for you? always  
[AppleCIder]: this is just making me more and more nervous, but it’s not like we have a choice.  
[AppleCIder]: alright, stray, here’s what you’re going to do.

* * *

Teatime is something important to Ana, Hana quickly discovers. It’s not that she’s a tea snob - she is, but not in a way that makes Hana feel small for not really knowing anything about sweet teas or bitter teas or black teas - or that she’s incredibly picky about what she drinks. It’s more that her eyes light up when she takes a sip from her teacup, a self-satisfied smile curling her lips as she drinks, how her shoulders roll back and she relaxes back into her seat, ever-watchful but calm and serene. Hana admires it, honestly, that Ana has found something small and lovely in such a hobby, and wonders if the look on Ana’s face is similar to one she might have when she plays video games.

“I am surprised,” Ana says after a moment. Her eyes may not be on Hana, but it’s enough to get her to tense up anyway; it’s not that Ana is out to get her, but everything about her calculation, and this moment is no different. “I would have thought you would bring someone with you.”

“I said I would not,” Hana says, gingerly sipping from her tea. The flavor is subtle; sweet, as she had tentatively requested, but not so much so that it’s overwhelming. It’s a little too hot, though, and she has to take a moment to let her tongue recover from its scalding before glancing over at Ana again. “You wanted to know more about me, so I came.”

“And so you did,” Ana agrees, tilting her head in a birdlike motion as she sets her cup down upon its saucer. The light _clink_ reminds Hana of bones, inexplicably, and Hana remembers sharp red dashes along Ana’s rifle, gleaming in a flash of light as she had set it aside. “Is it alright if I ask you questions, then?”

“I will answer if I am able and willing,” Hana says with a wry smile. Ana chuckles at that, and she nods when Hana adds, “So long as I can ask you questions as well.”

“A fair exchange of information,” Ana says. “Acceptable terms. Would you like to go first?”

Hana learns a few things within a short span of time: Ana is subtle, like dew on leaves, present in a way that is visible yet still and watching and on the edge of movement. Her answer to Hana’s question, _what was Overwatch like before it fell_ , isn’t long, nor is it short, nor is it simple or complicated. It is imperfect, a laugh and a simple _I was younger then_ , a soft sigh as she curls both hands around her cup and blinks into the liquid within. “Younger and more foolish,” she amends with a small smile and shake of her head, taking a sip and saying, “You will have to be more specific, I am afraid.”

Hana thinks about it. Time is limited; she has to make these questions count. “What was Seventy-six like?” she asks at last, not quite courageous enough to ask about Reaper, about Gabriel Reyes; though maybe she would anyway, given the way Ana’s eye alights and her happiness shows in the dimples of her cheeks.

“Jack smiled a lot more, back then,” Ana says. “He was an effective leader. Charismatic. A good tactician, and a brilliant soldier.” She sips from her cup and tilts her head, thoughtful. “He was always quiet when he did not have to speak. Very introverted. Even at parties, he would not say much. PR sessions always left him drained and he despised them with a passion.”

Hana tries to reconcile this image with the 76 she knows. Nothing of what Ana has told her has surprised her, as it turns out, and she says, “It does not seem like he has changed much.”

“I think he likes to think otherwise,” Ana says with a gentle chuckle, “But deep down, he is the same man. Experiences and time have worn him weary, but that is how it goes.” Her eye settles on Hana’s face, and Hana meets her gaze squarely, ready for the challenge. “Tell me about yourself, Hana. You are a MEKA soldier; when did you join up?”

Where to begin, Hana thinks, just for a moment, and she says, “I was sixteen when I won the world cup for _Starcraft_. I was drafted a few months later.”

Ana’s eyebrows knit. “That is illegal.”

“South Korea was desperate,” Hana replies, neither angry nor defensive. She has come to terms with this already. “The best were needed. Age was just a number. It was better than staying home all day.”

“Some would disagree.”

“Yes,” Hana says, “But not me.” She takes another sip of her tea; the temperature has not gone down and she regrets it almost immediately, as she sets her cup down and leans forward. “If you are willing, I would like to hear about Gabriel Reyes.”

“You are making me think I should my questions more poignant,” Ana says with a gleam in her eye, but she answers the question nonetheless.

Gabriel Reyes was the extrovert, Ana says; Jack’s best friend and closest confidant, a genius tactician and a deadly force to be reckoned with. Not even Jack knew the scope of Gabriel’s plans at the end of the day - no one did, and that was fine because Gabriel always let Jack or Ana know when he needed to destress, needed them to help him figure something out. When Jack got the promotion and he didn’t, that was fine too; both he and Jack knew that of the two, Gabriel was best suited for the task that was Blackwatch.

“For a while, that’s how it seemed,” Ana says, sipping from her cup. “I was taken out before I could see the true aftermath. You will have to ask Jack about it.”

“Somehow, I doubt that line of questioning would be fruitful.”

“Perhaps not for others,” Ana says; “For you, he is likely to make an exception.” Hana doesn’t reply to that, taking another cautious sip from her tea and finding it to be an appropriate temperature at last. She manages only a small sip, though, before she replaces it on her saucer as Ana asks, “What was it like in MEKA?”

Hana’s breath hitches, just slightly. Ana notices. (So does D.Va, and she doesn’t say anything, but Hana can feel her reassurances like a breath against her ear.)

“Training was hard,” Hana says at last. “Many of us were not physically fit as other soldiers, so the workouts were exhausting. We were all relatively the same age, but the female-to-male ratio was a little ridiculous, and I... was the odd one out, without question. Polarized for my age, my gender, my appearance, my ranking. I did not have many friends.” She breathes out. “It was hard.”

“Basic is never easy at first,” Ana says, sympathetic.

“Maybe so,” Hana says, sipping her tea. The sweetness is starting to taste overtly so, and she wishes she had something salty to counteract it. “Once we received our MEKAs, it was easier. All of us picked up on them quickly. The interface was similar to video games, and that is when they separated the good from the great.” She smiles at the memory; flying in her mech for the first time had been exhilarating and empowering. “I would not be assigned a squad until I had received more training, but it was a start.”

“You were sixteen at the time?”

“I was,” Hana says. Her smile, which had been growing steadily, drops in an instant. “The mission began a few months later. They spent just enough time prepping us about all they knew about the omnic in the sea, sorted us into squads, determined a strategy, and then - threw us in.” She closes her eyes. “We lost seven of us on that first day, and that was when I finally made friends.”

Ana must see something in Hana's expression that tells her not to pursue the subject, as Hana would have expected; instead she asks, “What is the giant omnic in the sea? I have heard of it, but you would know best of all sources.”

( _Giant,_ D.Va whispers as Hana stills. _Limbs like whips. Intelligence of a thousand humans in one. Mercurial - never the same when you see it next. An immortal avatar, righteous in its beliefs._ )

Hana stumbles over her description. _Huge_ , she says; _taller, wider than many skyscrapers. Fast, deadly, unwavering. Fearsome. It strikes with precision and makes no mistake. There's no winning against it, only surviving - you fought not with thought but with instinct. You must pay a price in soldiers and mechs, of blood, sweat, tears; you must give enough to sate the bloodlust of a god._ “This is why I am the best,” she explains, voice soft, staring at her hands settled in her lap. Her fingers flex and relax. “My hand-to-eye coordination is extraordinarily good. I do not need to think; I simply _do_.”

“And you led your squad throughout all of this?”

“It was either that or leave them on their own,” Hana says; “And if I had done that, they would not have survived.” Her laugh is quiet. “They are my friends. We watch each other’s backs. It is our creed, if you will.”

Ana looks her over with an expression Hana can’t quite read; it’s not pity, not admiration, certainly not disdain. It is... assuaging, perhaps, and Hana drinks her tea and stays silent, flipping through missions in her mind, recalling whipping her hands from place to place in her mech to survive an unexpected blow from her left as the giant omnic in the sea soared upwards ahead of her.

“It’s little wonder why Jack has taken a shine to you,” Ana says to her, and her smile upon Hana’s quizzical look is small and genuine and knowing, all at once. “You are very strong.”

“I am a disaster of a person held together by sheer force of will,” Hana corrects, feeling D.Va in the back of her mind. “There is a difference.”

“Strength comes in many forms,” Ana says. “You are doing yourself a disservice by not acknowledging your own skills, _Byeongjang_ Song.”

It’s been a long time since Hana has been called her proper title, and she has to tamp down on the memories when they rise up unbidden. Still, the fact that Ana knows her rank - she knows what Hana is capable of, knows what kind of things Hana has done. The thought of that makes her uneasy, given how little is in her file back in Gibraltar's database; Ana had done research on her own. 

“Skills,” Hana echoes after a beat, and then, in a sharp reminder, “Killing and jokes. That is all I can claim, at the end of the day.”

“You led a squad, did you not?”

“Killing, jokes, and good instincts,” Hana deflects. “I know my limits, Ana, and I know where I excel. I own my strengths, but they do not define me.”

This is clearly not an answer Ana had predicted, and it visibly throws her off, a raise of her eyebrow and just a slight rock back in her seat. Hana’s cup is empty - hm, when had that happened? - and she sets it down carefully, suddenly wishing she had brought 76 along with her after all. At the very least, she could have used him to make a quick escape.

“You are very wise,” Ana tells her eventually.

“I am good at making things up as I go along,” Hana says with a brittle smile. “It has fooled enough people for now.”

“You did not try to trick me.”

“It would not have worked,” Hana says; “You see too much, and you talk to Seventy-six often.”

Ana’s expression is unreadable when Hana glances over, expecting a quick response and receiving silence instead, a quip about being too young to retire, maybe, she’s not sure. Instead, she gets a soft, thoughtful frown and a gentle, “What do you think of him?”

The question catches Hana off guard, but she recovers quickly and wishes she had something to fiddle with. In the end her hands go to her empty cup, thumb running over the smooth curve of its handle.

“I do not know how he feels about it,” Hana says at last, “But he has been more of a father to me than mine ever was.”

Ana says nothing to that, a complicated expression flitting across her face, a passing cloud across her visage, and then she’s set her cup down and she’s gotten to her feet, waiting until Hana has stood as well before beginning to move towards the waitress that had served them, money in hand. She is silent as they take the short trek back to the hotel, and Hana doesn’t break the quiet. She’s said a lot today, all of which she’s already told to 76, but she supposes Ana had not expecting her brutal honesty too, and maybe - maybe she should’ve kept quiet about some things. Maybe...

“Jack,” Ana says when they back to the room, and 76 looks up from the couch where he’s reading from his datapad, and then Ana’s pointing to her and she says, “You’d better take care of her.”

76 blinks, slowly, gaze shifting to Hana for a brief moment, returning to Ana when Hana stares back at him. She thinks her expression is more somber than neutral, careful and guarded, and then 76 nods.

“She can take care of herself,” he says, expression grave, “But I will.”

Ana’s laugh, however, is sharp and - and unspeakably sad. Hana feels a conversation pass between them in a heartbeat, and she feels like she’s intruding on something private and old and wonders, wonders, wonders what Ana’s sorrow-filled glance back to her could possibly mean.

* * *

[AppleCIder]: yo d.va, you sure you’re gonna be safe on your own?  
[takes22tango]: Yeah, will you be alright? I know Overwatch is capable, but...  
[D.Va]: i’ll be fine  
[Stray]: There’s someone on this team that she trusts enough to hold her gun.  
[MIM]: holy _shit_  
[takes22tango]: That changes things.  
[AppleCIder]: in that case... good luck.  
[AppleCIder]: we’ll put on our battle stripes for you.

“You’re done.”

Satya, thank goodness, does Hana’s makeup for her, if only because Hana is a buzz of nervous energy and she _knows_ she’s going to fuck up her mascara. And also because Satya is a goddess when it comes to makeup and Hana almost doesn’t recognize herself when she stares hard in the mirror, her compact out to paint her battle stripes.

“Where did you learn to do this kind of thing?” Hana asks, wincing as she dabs her fingers into her pink war paint. It’s a tragedy to mess up the foundations and other stuff Satya has delicately layered on her face, but the stripes are a must, if only because her squadmates back home are doing the same - and so, with a small sigh, she dabs one across her left cheek, then two, before switching to her right.

“Presentation was seen as critical in Vishkar. Some of my classes were dedicated to that subject alone,” Satya says, running a careful hand over Hana’s chosen attire for the night. After Stray had told Hana what he was going to be wearing, she’d picked an outfit to complement him; it’s a fitted tuxedo, black slacks and black suit jacket and a crisp white shirt. The pink tie to accompany it is almost metallic in its reflective property, the entire thing paired with sensible black flats. All in all, it’s one of Hana’s lesser-used outfits, given sleeves could get in the way of gaming - but this isn’t a tournament, it’s a pre-show, so she can afford to be a little more dramatic than usual.

“Are you ready?” Satya asks as Hana puts the finishing touches on her stripes, sharp angles and triangular against her round face.

“Yes,” she answers, getting up. She’s already stripped down to a tank top and leggings, and Satya turns away as she pulls off her tank and slips into the white shirt, buttoning it with fast, practiced motions. The leggings are soon replaced by the slacks, and then Satya fusses over her shirt until it’s tucked just right into her pants before moving to her tie. Only when it’s rested perfectly center on her chest does Satya allow Hana to put on the suit jacket, and then the socks and shoes are on and she and Satya are left staring into the mirror, mulling over her hair.

“We can just leave it,” Hana decides after a few more seconds of staring. Her hair is naturally straight and relatively thick; styling it would take too long and, more importantly, be a pain in the ass. “It’s my signature look, anyway.”

“Fair enough,” Satya says, whose long black hair is pinned up in a bun. Her visor is in place and she is wearing a freshly-pressed Vishkar uniform, brilliant blue against Hana’s black. “Lúcio and Stray are waiting for us, if you’re ready to depart.”

“I suppose we cannot leave them waiting,” Hana says, and Satya laughs lightly before opening the bathroom door. Lúcio is lounging in comfortable clothes, of course - his green frog tank and then the set-up for his skates, his own visor set to a level of opaqueness that hides his eyes like sunglasses, though his eyebrows give away his scowl as he spots Satya. Across from him, Stray stands up from where he was seated on the couch, eyes roving over Hana’s outfit before he nods approvingly.

“ _I admit I’m surprised_ ,” Stray says as Lúcio bounces to his feet, joining her and Satya as they moved towards the door. 76 was waiting for them just outside, dressed much like Hana, a stiff black formal suit with foreboding sunglasses and a black shirt and tie. “ _I did not expect you to pull out that particular outfit_.”

“Had to match,” Hana says in English, gesturing to Stray’s floor-length dress with a hand. It starts light gray at the top, looping over his shoulders, and then fades to black as it nears the ground, pooling slightly on the floor; one of his usual gaming outfits, mostly because of ease of transport and Stray had the inability to change clothes quickly unless they were easy to pull on.

“ _I have no pink_ ,” Stray says with a grimace.

Hana shrugs, grinning as Lúcio gives them both a quizzical stare; he can only understand Hana’s half of the conversation, and given the way 76 and Satya have their heads slightly tilted in their direction, she gets the sense they’re listening in as well - though they also could turn on the translator program in their comms, however inaccurate it might be. “We can improvise when we get there.”

“ _I suppose_ ,” Stray says, and Hana squares her shoulders, blows out a breath as they near the doorway. Already she can hear shouting; to be honest, she could hear it from their hotel room several floors up. She sees him reach down to press a hand against the side of his thigh; where a gun is resting, she's sure, and it’s enough to make her smile. “ _Are you ready?_ ”

“No,” she says, and then Lúcio laughs and loops his arm through hers as she says, “Let’s slay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **korean**  
>  _byeongjang_ \- sergeant
> 
> favorite part of this chapter: ana's section. hands down. i haven't had the opportunity to write poetic prose in a long time c:
> 
> also, yes, stray is wearing a floor-length ballgown. the head of MEKA is nonbinary. takes22tango is agender. lucio is pan. mim is gay. _fight me_.
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- 76 usually doesn't hold mugs by the handles, even if the liquid inside is super hot. he just. doesn't care. cups his hands around it and drinks and people are like 'how are your fingers not on fire'  
> \- ana has never pulled the "I'm disappointed in you" card in her life. she instead has a thousand-yard stare that can make you feel empty inside in seconds.  
> \- it's inadvisable to fight bastion unless it's a fistfight. it takes a while for it to get back up once pushed over, so as long as you stay out of the sights of its gun, you'll be fine if you keep knocking it back.  
> \- genji's bodily functions are always at optimal levels - even breaths, steady heartbeat, so on and so forth no matter how much he's exerting himself. this can be confusing and disorienting for him because his emotions might not match up with his body's responses.  
> \- hana has tried curling her hair before, but unless she uses a lot of beauty products, her hair will straighten out again within minutes.  
> \- hanzo's useless talent: tying knots. he knows many types and will often fiddle with string if he has any on hand. the scarf that holds his hair back is usually tied in a different way every day.  
> \- lúcio had a pet cat back home. he's not sure what happened to it after he left, but his hopes are not high.  
> \- on mccree's person at any time, save when he's asleep: peacekeeper, extra ammo, a combat knife, a small bottle of hand sanitizer, migraine meds, a lighter, a small notepad, and refills for a mechanical 0.5mm lead pencil, along with the actual pencil.  
> \- mercy can say the alphabet backwards faster than most people can say it forwards.  
> \- pharah will avoid eating vegetables if possible. this is a problem when she joins overwatch and both her mother and overwatch's resident doctor pressure her into eating more healthily.  
> \- the day reaper discovered he could use the claws on his fingers as a knife to open boxes and such is the day reaper was content for longer than ten minutes at a time.  
> \- reinhardt loves christmas but, since he can't differentiate between red and green (earlier headcanon from ages ago), his decorations skills leave a bit to be desired.  
> \- symmetra's favorite color is silver.  
> \- torbjörn is the kind of person who colored in the lines as a kid and then berated others if they also did not color inside the lines.  
> \- tracer can play ukulele, but not especially well. drum set has always been her forte.  
> \- widowmaker has always been extremely fast when it comes to mental math. she often counts things when she's bored or waiting for a mark to go to a spot where she can shoot them.  
> \- winston takes advantage of the fact that he essentially has four hands only when there's no one else in the room with him (except maybe bastion).  
> \- the first time people see zenyatta walking around base, everyone but genji flips their shit and asks him if anything is wrong. zenyatta never explains why he sometimes floats and why he sometimes doesn't, and it's eventually chalked up to be yet another entry in Overwatch Mysteries.


	66. OPERATION: SYNAESTHESIA AUDITIVIA (part 3 of 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pre-show begins, and then the concert is underway. Jack watches and wonders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooo, two week delay! my apologies, fam. there was a whole slew of midterms i had to take care of, as well as a busy weekend, some final projects and papers, aaaand, well. let's just say i've been sleeping a lot these past few days c:
> 
> many thanks to roguevector and costumebleh for the help, as always! wouldn't be here without them.
> 
> happy black friday, american readers! one update for the price of none! er. with triple the wait time? haha, idk. hope you have a wonderful day regardless!

If there’s one thing Jack will probably never get used to, it’s watching someone slip on a mask. He knows what it’s like himself – his whole life has revolved around being someone that he isn’t, when he looks back – but to see Hana and Stray pull it off so effortlessly is as impressive as it is disheartening. Hana is nineteen, Stray can’t be older than twenty-four; they are both painfully, clearly soldiers, and it’s something of a bitter sight.

He supposes he doesn’t have much room to talk, given he enlisted when he was eighteen. But there’s something intrinsically wrong to see this on these young people, people Overwatch had fought to protect from having lives like his; the two of them are proof that the organization failed their duty to the future generation, plain and simple. Such as it goes, he thinks, endless numbers of faces passing them by as they weave their way through the busy streets to the stadium proper. Ending the Omnic Crisis had only been a quarter of the job, Gabriel had always said, and to think that no one is surprised they have ended up here except for the politicians up top...

Regardless, the trek to the stadium passes without incident, Hana and Lúcio waving and smiling and greeting their fans with shouts while Stray remains stately and cold, sweeping forward in the center of an almost triangular formation with Hana and Lúcio on either side. Strange, given that Hana had started between them, but Jack knows it’s all for show as they reach the back door of the stadium, security guards giving them the go-ahead as they slip inside. The dull roar quietens significantly as the heavy metal closes behind them, and then Lúcio and Satya split off to find his manager while Stray and Hana walk through the hallway, intent on the stage itself as they speak to each other in rapid-fire Korean. Jack can only pick up on bits and pieces, even with the help of his comm; without question they are planning their pre-show, and he’ll admit that he’s curious to see what they will come up with.

The stadium is yawning and empty when they step onto the green. The large, empty spaces sets him on edge; so many places for a sniper to sit and wait, and even with the crowd they’re expecting to attract tonight, it’s not hard to find a dark, quiet corner to set up a shot. He knows because Ana is in one such corner, lying on her front with her own rifle still and waiting, facing the back of the stage so that she can have eyes on the stadium’s main front entrance. Directly across from her position is Hanzo, crouched among the rafters, and if Jack squints he can see a glint of his gold scarf whispering through an unseen breeze; even further, Genji rests outside, legs folded underneath him as he eyes the stadium’s side entrance, and it’s still not enough. So many things could go wrong, and yet –

“Seventy-six,” Hana says, and he looks down at her, hiding the startled jolt that had runs through his entire frame with a tilt of his head. She peers up at him quizzically, lips turning down in a frown – she hadn’t missed it, of course she hadn’t – and she says, “Stray will be inviting a few audience members up to the stage. How do you want us to proceed in that regard?”

This isn’t be the first time he had acted as a bodyguard, but it is the first time he would defend his charge to the death. The weight of the duffel bag with his rifle pulls on his shoulders as he says, “One of the workers onstage will scan them over quickly. We’re not going to make a big deal out of it.”

“Understood.” He grunts when her fist connects with his shoulder, and a quick glance shows him that she’s grinning. “Cheer up, dad. This is supposed to be fun.”

“Fun for you, maybe,” he quips back, one corner of his mouth curling up when she huffs, eyes narrowed at him - then she’s bouncing back to the stage where Stray is booting up his own gaming system, brushing hair behind his ear with one hand as the other jumps around his keyboard. The motions are familiar, just as Hana always does when she’s getting ready to stream, and he wonders what else had been drilled into them in MEKA; he wonders how their lives could have been different if their passion hadn’t been weaponized.

Mostly, though, he thinks about the mournful look on Ana’s face when she had told him to take care of Hana, and he thinks about the fact that Hana so easily calls him _dad_ , and he thinks about the responsibility that comes with such a term and – he wonders if he can live up to the task, if he’ll be able to do what Ana had not. He doesn’t think of himself as her father more than he thinks of himself as her self-appointed guardian, but even then... he’s Jack Morrison. He’s a super-soldier who served in Overwatch and then died in the Swiss explosion. What about him could have possibly made Hana think he could watch over her with such honest, genuine conviction?

He needs to talk to Ana about this, he realizes, as he sets his duffel bag on the ground and slides into the folding chair right next to it. The suit limits his motions but he’s not overly concerned, given he typically braces the rifle against his side anyway, and he trusts Hana to take care of herself and Stray until he can get control of the situation - but, as always, worry brushes the back of his mind.

“ _Calm down, Jack_ ,” Ana’s voice comes over comm; is his unease really that visible? Apparently so, as she goes on to say, “ _We have eyes everywhere. Not to mention several security guards will be onstage with them._ ”

“ _Speaking of eyes,_ ” Genji says, “ _There’s a couple out here who have been making out for five minutes straight. I feel like I am watching a porno._ ”

Ana sniggers. It’s Hanzo who sighs and says, “ _It’s not as if you can hear them._ ”

“ _They are on the floor underneath me._ ”

“ _How are you_ watching _if_ – ”

Genji cuts Hanzo off. “ _I have turned off most of my auditory sensors. Permission to move buildings?_ ”

Jack sighs, long and loud. “Will you still have visibility?”

“ _Please, Commander. I am not incompetent._ ” Hanzo snorts. Genji makes a dismissive sound in turn at him, and then he says, “ _It would be a slightly more precarious position, but it would be better than listening to this._ ”

“Fine. Be subtle about it.”

“ _Not incompetent, Commander._ – _Shit!_ ” Two seconds later: “ _I am fine._ ”

“Try not to get yourselves killed out there,” Jack says with a sigh, watching as Hana reaches into her pocket, gaming setup finally complete, and pulls out a pair of white gloves. Stray asks her something, expression open and questioning, and whatever Hana says in response makes him laugh, slightly, as she gingerly slips the gloves over her hands. Right, Jack remembers; she had been injured, and her fingers aren’t fully recovered yet, even with Angela’s Caduceus tech.

She sees him watching from across the green and gives him a tiny wave, somehow looking taller and prideful in her suit with her white gloves and pink battle stripes, Stray striking an imposing, intimidating figure across from her as he hunches over his computer, changing something in accordance to what Hana had said to him. He waves back, unable to keep the small smile from his face, and she makes a heart with her hands before turning away to face Stray.

If Reaper ruins this, Jack thinks – this time, he won’t hesitate, as Lúcio and Symmetra reappear with his manager in tow, not ignoring each other per se but definitely not speaking, and Hana and Stray get called over to discuss logistics, Jack would guess. Showtime isn’t for another hour or so as last-minute changes and setup takes place, and he settles in for a long wait, cross his arms over his chest and leaning back into the chair. Already, he can pick up the dull buzz of a crowd outside; he has no doubt the entire stadium has been sold out.

“ _Most of the audience is young,_ ” Genji says when Jack asks him about it. “ _Early to late twenties, many younger than that. Quite a few parents. Mixed evenly between omnics and humans, and there are plenty of others with cyborg augmentations._ ” A brief hesitation, and he adds, “ _Security is especially vigilant, so your pep talk must have worked, Commander._ ”

“Pep talk?” Jack asks, amused despite himself.

“ _I have never seen someone scuttle away from you so quickly_ ,” Ana drawls. He can see her expression in his mind’s eye: a hint of a smirk, head tilted just so, one hand braced against the side of her face. “ _When you told them not to worry about what was in your tripod bag, I think they all immediately concluded it was a firearm of some kind._ ”

“Subtle is my middle name,” Jack says, deadpan.

“ _Truly_ ,” Genji agrees, equally sarcastic, and then, “ _Hey,_ anija _, do you think pink goes well with bright green?_ ”

“ _Is that a rhetorical question?_ ” Hanzo says, and then pauses. “ _I suppose it depends on the shade of pink._ ”

Genji sounds absolutely gleeful as he says, “ _You’re going to love what this crowd looks like, then. There isn’t much silver, but it really pulls out the other colors._ ”

“ _Ah, it seems they are letting people in soon_ ,” Ana says; “ _I hope you are all in position._ ”

“Watch out for us out there, mama bear,” Jack says, jokingly, and there’s a moment of silence on comm, remembrance for lives lost and lives lived and what was left behind, before Ana lets out a loose breath of air, a chuckle.

“ _I will bring us home safe,_ ” she says, and Jack is glad that at least some things still haven’t changed.

* * *

Since it’s pre-show, the two MEKA pilots don’t get any loud introduction or anything – instead they’re sitting down and twiddling with their gaming setups, Stray reaching up to adjust the mic resting in the pinna of his ear as Hana loads up _Starcraft_ , presumably – and the crowd starts to surge in as the holoscreen lights up above them, visible from all angles and showing the same view of Lúcio's frog logo no matter how one looked at it. It’s a masterful setup, Jack will easily admit that, but he also knows that it simultaneously blocks part of Ana and Hanzo’s view of the area and will act as a stupendous distraction if anything goes wrong. At the very least, he notes, Hana and Stray are impossible to miss in their matching clothes, but the thought gives him little relief.

“What’s up, everyone?” Hana crows into her mic, voice amplified across the stadium, and Jack isn’t ready for the chorus of yells and screams that echo afterwards, wincing as his augmented senses complain at the noise. “I can’t hear you,” she shouts, standing up straight and waving her arms, and the response is instantaneous and impossibly _louder_ , Stray impassive at his setup as Hana grins and spins around to see the growing audience around her.

She’s done this before, clearly. It makes Jack wonder just how much South Korea means to her, to allow them to parade her around like this when he knows that she hates crowds, and the fact she covers up her discomfort so easily with a smile doesn’t sit right with him. But there’s nothing he can do except remain still in silent support, and so he watches as she high-fives Stray and prowls about the stage, smiling and laughing and throwing out other little words to get the audience’s energy up. She’s good at her craft, that he knows.

“I know you all came for Lúcio,” she says after a few minutes – the stadium is almost completely full at this point, and she gets enthusiastic cheers, hollers, and laughter as she chuckles – “But I am afraid you are stuck with us two for a bit. How about a warm welcome for Stray and me, yeah?” The noise level increases, and she shouts, “D.Va online!”

At this point, Jack’s put the earplugs Lúcio had helpfully provided into his ears, and the noise is manageable as – well, he sees people jump to their feet and scream at her, and it’s really a wonder how Hana is taking this without breaking stride, pacing around the stage as Stray stands with his arms crossed, shoulders back, eyes flinty and unreadable, cutting a striking figure. She looks entirely at home – not completely at ease, but entirely at home.

“We figured we would do something fun this time around,” Hana says; “So let’s not waste time. Two members from the audience have been randomly selected by ticket number to come up and play with us! – And before you ask, yes, you will be playing _Starcraft_ , and yes, we only chose from those here who play _Starcraft_. So sorry, but I really do not think you want to be a scrub and go up against me.” That earns her uproarious laughter, even Jack can't resist a small smile, and Hana is grinning as she says, “The chosen pair will be escorted onstage shortly. Please give them a warm welcome!”

On the widescreens up top, two faces come into view – one teenaged girl and one omnic, the former awestruck, the latter laughing delightedly as security helps the two of them make their way down from the stands and onto the field. Hana claps along with everyone else as they approach, and Jack does a cursory scan of the two of them as they step up the stairs, shaking hands first with Hana before moving onto Stray. The human is clearly overwhelmed, dressed in what Jack has learned is Stray’s signature silver-gray down to her shoes; the omnic is garbed in a conglomeration of pink and green; Stray says something to both of them that makes them laugh, both of them shifting to a slightly more at-ease pose, as Hana announces, “And of course, I cannot forget our MC. He is with us in spirit, not in the flesh, but regardless, please welcome Tekhartha Zenyatta to the stage!”

“ _Peace be upon you_ ,” Zenyatta’s voice says, coming over from the PA system Jack supposes, and a moment later the omnic’s impassive faceplate is up on the screens, right above the larger, main holoprojections. No one recognizes him, Jack would expect, but Mondatta is not easily forgotten, and Zenyatta’s appearance causes both omnics and humans to quieten down, not out of fear but out of respect. It’s further heightened when Hana speaks again, voice soft and serious.

“A moment of silence for his fallen brother,” she says, bowing her head. Beside her, Stray and the two audience members copy her. “Tekhartha Mondatta was assassinated in King’s Row a few months ago, and with him went an inspiration to us all. He will be missed.”

Some people echo her – _he will be missed_ is passed around the stadium like a murmur – and Zenyatta, per usual, is impassive. Jack has no doubt Hana had coordinated with him earlier to make sure it was acceptable to say such a thing, and there’s a tight warmth in his chest to hear her speak the words. He isn’t one to share his views easily, but the fact that Hana is so ardently standing up for omnic rights despite having slayed them herself is telling, if nothing else, of her character.

A number of seconds, deathly quiet, pass. Jack absently counts them; it’s about fifteen. “And with that,” Hana says afterwards, brightening up with a smile, “I think it is time to start, is it not? You did not come here to listen to me blather on. Well, actually, I suppose you did, seeing as that is what I do on stream, but that is neither here nor there.” She takes a seat at her holoscreen as the crowd shouts back at her, excitement levels high enough that even Jack can feel himself sitting up straighter, just a hint of a smile on his face. “Stray, perhaps you would like to introduce your new teammates?”

At the word _teammates_ , the crowd roars, and Jack watches the two volunteers’ reactions closely. They’re both obviously nervous but otherwise excited, and then he realizes that they’re both standing on Stray’s side – Hana must be planning to take all three of them on in a match. Hardly fair, but then again, perhaps not in the way he might think.

“Is two enough of a handicap for you?” Stray asks, eyebrow rising imperiously. Coolheaded and expressionless seems to be his crafted public persona, and Jack will readily admit that it plays off of Hana’s quite well.

“What, you would like _more_ help?”

 _And there it is_ , Jack thinks, and Stray scoffs and rolls his eyes; the crowd laughs and jeers and Hana snickers as Stray drawls, “Forget I said anything.” He sweeps a hand up to gesture to the human girl first. “This is Ahilya. She typically plays Zerg,” and the omnic rocks back and forth on their heels as Stray gestures to them and says, “And this is Tanu, who specializes in Protoss. They have both been playing _Starcraft_ for a number of years.”

“Excellent,” Hana says, clapping her hands and thusly urging the crowd to do so as well. “Well, without further ado, I believe we can begin, as soon as Ahilya and Tanu log into their accounts. Best of luck to you.” Her smile is crafty as she adds, “You are going to need it.”

Laughter. Jack watches the projection up above blank out to show a loading screen, one half dedicated to Hana, the other to Stray and his newfound teammates. A buzz of excitement murmurs around the room, tense and jittery, and Zenyatta is as calm and serene as ever on the screens above, patient and waiting as the four onstage prep for what Jack thinks is probably going to be a showdown. And a shutout, he thinks, remembering Stray’s mention of Hana’s APM. He almost hadn’t believed it when he had seen it himself for the first time, and then he had remembered in Russia when she had protected Angela from Reaper’s attack with her defense matrix, and it was suddenly not too surprising to see it in practice.

An emblem appear on the screen as Jack watches; the one Stray is playing appears to be a kind of spiky shell curling inwards, and the crowd cheers as a result as his teammates plug in the same thing. Hana’s smirk is ever-present as she uses her index finger to press a button, and the cheering intensifies tenfold as a die emblazoned with a question mark appears in her side of the screen. Jack knows enough about the game to know that it’s very unusual for a player to not specialize in a single – ‘race’, he thinks they’re called, when Hana had sat him down to explain the basics to him – and Stray looks definitively uneasy as he sees Hana’s choice on his screen.

“ _Seriously_?” he says, incredulous voice amplified across the stadium.

“Try to keep up,” Hana answers with a childish laugh, and the stadium roars alongside her as the loading screen’s progress bar continues forward. “Zenyatta, are you ready?”

“ _If by ready, you mean I read up on how this game works three hours prior to this exhibition match, then yes_ ,” Zenyatta says, earning him some laughter, “ _I am ready._ ”

“ _I cannot believe I won’t be able to watch this live_ ,” Genji says through comm as presumably the game begins, and Jack snorts, reminded to keep watch and casting a glance about the area. It’s impossible to tell what’s going on; there’s too much excitement and movement everywhere, including in those on the stadium’s green itself. When it comes down to it, Jack has to place his trust in the security detail’s scanners and Ana and Hanzo’s eyes, and Genji adds, “ _There are many guards patrolling the exterior. I am going to shift positions slightly._ ”

“ _Don’t be so tense, Jack,_ ” Ana says. “ _People will look._ ”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, allowing his posture to slouch a little bit. Hana is leaning forward in her chair, grinning, fingers flying so fast across her keyboard that they’re almost a blur. Stray and his teammates are slothlike by comparison, which isn’t really saying much of anything seeing as they were moving quickly, just not nearly as so. “Don’t let your guard down.”

“ _Please, Jack_ ,” Ana says dryly, probably rolling her eyes. Hanzo scoffs.

“Force of habit.”

“ _Still a commander after all this time, eh?_ ” Jack swears under his breath and Genji cackles. “ _Just teasing, Commander. Perimeter is clear, settling back in my original position. Enjoy the show._ ”

“Right,” Jack says with a sigh, and he can’t help his smile when Ana titters softly at him and Hanzo lets out a soft, amused sigh.

* * *

Jack is waiting in the backstage waiting area when Stray and Hana make it in, elbows looped as they joke with each other in Korean, smiling and laughing even as the doors close behind them and they are in relative privacy. The security detail is just outside the room – largely because Jack had chased them off earlier – with Satya directly outside the door, and it’s now that Jack can see the fatigue setting in, Stray plopping onto one of the couches with a sigh as Hana drops into place beside him. Across from them, Jack is seated in the other couch, leaning over his folded hands as his elbows rest on his knees.

“Pretty good, huh?” Hana asks him, grinning, fresh off of an adrenaline high. There’s a swell of pride that constricts his chest at the sight – she’s genuinely _happy_ , had been on stage when she was joking with Stray and leaning back in her chair, fingers dancing across her keyboard with inhuman speed despite her injuries, pushing past everything to excite the crowd and engage them with her passion. It’s not until this moment that Jack realizes that he’s only ever seen Hana relax when with him or alone, and to see how she and Stray interact, the guardedness falling away after a challenging match, is eye-opening.

“Pretty good,” he agrees, smiling when Stray barks out a laugh and Hana’s grin widens. “Still at the top of your game.”

“Obviously,” Hana says with a sniff. Stray says something in Korean as he pulls out his phone, and Hana responds in kind before saying, “But now that we have a moment, I need to tell you something. Multiple somethings.”

“This is about MEKA again,” he guesses, and Hana grimaces in response as she follows Stray’s lead and takes out her cell. Across her phone spills a multitude of Korean characters in a plethora of colors.

“Yes,” she says, scrolling through the slog with a rare patience. “It is a situation where you do not think it can get worse, and then it does.” That makes Stray laugh; inside joke, Jack would guess, and then Hana leans forward and says, “My second-in-command back home has news.”

And so Jack sits and listens as Hana pops her comm back into her ear and tells everyone about MEKA’s new structure – independent contractor, able to be loaned to the highest bidder – and explain that the organization’s leader has gone missing, absent since the U.N. meeting a few weeks ago. Nothing is certain except that MEKA squads have begun deployment in areas all over the world, often to help counter omnic or even human threats, and even more have been sent to fight on Siberia’s frontlines. It’s only a matter of time before they are all recalled to fight on South Korea’s coast, but the fact they are being sent out at all is troubling, and –

“Seems tactically inept,” Jack notes, tilting his head. “Risking valuable units on other countries’ problems while there’s danger back home.”

“Our thought as well,” Hana says, indicating her phone with a jerk of her chin. “Apple has been doing some digging – she is my second-in-command – and apparently even our handlers are not quite sure what is going on. We do know, however, or at least have suggestions, that we have new leadership. We suspect it is Talon.”

“Speaking of handlers,” Stray says, eyebrows furrowing, and then his phone goes to his ear. After a few seconds of listening, he stands and sends them an apologetic look as he goes to the door. “I will be back in a moment.”

“Don’t go too far,” Jack says, and when Stray nods he turns back to Hana. The door closes behind him as he asks, “Talon controls MEKA now?”

“So it seems,” Hana says, frowning. Her phone is idly tossed from hand to hand. “I do not understand their motive. It is an extensive and likely expensive move, and it is unlikely they have any idea of how difficult it is to deal with MEKA pilots as individuals and as a group. If nothing else, they have won a formidable collection of soldiers, but at what cost?”

“They took out your leader, apparently.”

“So it seems,” Hana says again, shifting uneasily. After a moment, she hops to her feet to come over to him, taking a spot next to him and curling her knees up to her chest as she leans against his shoulder. Somehow, even dressed as formally as she is, she appears comfortable in her skin; relaxed, almost, and the fact she trusts him so much is as frightening as it is reassuring. “That does not explain much.”

 _Motive, huh_ , Jack thinks, thinking back to the beginning of Hana’s story. Her second-in-command had filched the information directly under her handler’s nose – the handlers, presumably, performing like a pilot’s manager – and, from that, had learned of Talon’s involvement. In that light, the handlers did have some idea of what was happening, but if Apple had not been able to learn anything else, then it was doubtful the handlers knew much more, too. Whatever was happening was larger than MEKA in scope, no surprise given Talon, but that still doesn’t explain their motive – if it even was Talon. Making MEKA an independent contractor would make the danger the sea omnic represents in South Korea more apparent, whenever it chose to return; is that a major point to worry about, or is there something else afoot?

“ _Commander Morrison, Stray has left my line of sight and appears to be intent on leaving the stadium_ ,” Symmetra says through comm, and Jack stills. “ _Would you like me to pursue?_ ”

Yes, he would, but that would unwise when she represents Vishkar. “Stay at the door,” Jack directs. “It would be suspicious if you walked off. I doubt your superiors would ecstatic to have news of you wandering the streets.”

“ _Affirmative_ ,” Symmetra says.

“ _I will watch him_ ,” Genji says. “ _I am curious to see how he will be sneaking around in that dress._ ”

Hana laughs. “Do not underestimate him,” she says cryptically, shaking her head, and then more seriously, “Loaning out MEKA to other areas is bringing in a great deal of money to the Korean government – money, materials, favors... even our pilots become stronger with more experience. This will allow them to build more mechs and train more recruits more skillfully, if nothing else.”

“ _It would also strengthen political ties between South Korea and many countries_ ,” Ana says. “ _Not that they have suffered for that in recent years, but I have no doubt it would be useful._ ”

Genji chimes in once more. “ _Stray has exited the stadium, Commander. Shall I pursue?_ ”

“Go ahead, Genji,” Jack says, before saying to Ana, “It’s a bold move, all things considered. You really think they’d risk their pilots like this?”

“My squad is stationed at the North Korean border at the moment,” Hana interjects, eyes intent on her phone. “Apparently, most squads have been sent to Siberia, however – as I said earlier.”

“Russia must be desperate,” Jack murmurs.

“ _Winston was planning on sending us out there sooner rather than later_ ,” Ana says. “ _Of course, we can’t interrupt Lúcio’s tour, so it’s like we will not be on that particular team._ ”

“ _Save for those accompanying Hana back to Gibraltar,_ ” Hanzo points out, and Ana hums in agreement. “ _Regardless, it would be prudent to see what is happening in MEKA’s inward politics._ ”

“The fact that the Boss is not there is a major concern,” Hana tells them, and the way she says the word indicates that _boss_ is the person’s title, not so much a casual moniker the pilots have thrown onto them. “If we can figure out where they have gone, it would put us in a much better position to understand what is happening in South Korean politics.”

“Especially if Talon is behind the changes,” Jack agrees. “I’ll write that in my report to Winston tonight. Unless one of us can call him and tell him now?”

“ _Doing so will hinder my ability to keep watch, but I can do so_ ,” Hanzo says.

“ _I will be fine on my own,_ ” Ana assures Jack before he can ask. “ _Do what you must._ ”

“Last time I checked, I was in charge,” Jack says jokingly.

“ _So contrary_ ,” Ana teases. “ _I was second-in-command. Do you doubt my judgment?_ ”

“No. Go ahead, Hanzo.”

“ _As you say, Amari._ ”

“Oh, snap,” Hana says with a bright giggle, though it fades; amusement is replaced by solemness in just an instant, as she says to him, “There is not much time until the omnic in the sea attacks the Korean coast again. Perhaps I am being paranoid, but on the off-chance it attacks earlier than predicted – this leaves my country defenseless. I understand the importance of stopping the omnium in Siberia, but I would much rather figure out the issue within MEKA’s ranks sooner rather than later.”

Jack tilts his head at her. She is staring at him with heavy eyes, uncertainty in her gaze but a solid, fierce strength behind it, too. A soldier, he remembers, again, even as she’s curled up next to him and her head is resting on his shoulder, and he grimaces.

“It’s up to Winston at the end of the day,” he tells her.

“I know,” Hana says, perfunctory and understanding but deadly serious as she says, “I will not hesitate if the omnic returns, however, and I would prefer having Overwatch at my back.”

Jack has yet to break eye contact. It’s unwavering, either way, and a part of him wonders what she had been like when she was younger, not for the first time. Stubborn, no doubt - yet he can’t help but wonder how much of her strength is learned, how much of her resolve comes from her personality or from her upbringing. He admires it, if nothing else. Still, it’s unsettling to him, how young a warrior can be, and he gives himself a slight shake as he reaches up to briefly turn off his comm.

“You know Overwatch will help you,” he says to her as she copies his motions, thereby leaving them in relative privacy. “You don’t have to do everything yourself.”

“Even I know that an organization must work towards the greater good,” Hana replies. “The omnium in Siberia is a far more pressing concern than the omnic in the sea. I understand that, and I will leave the fight if my country is in danger during our time there. If necessary, I will depart alone.”

“You know I’d come with you.”

The words escape unbidden. Jack knows that years ago, back when he had been Strike-Commander, he couldn’t have possibly put voice to his desires, let alone let himself be moved by individual problems in the first place. The degree of freedom he has as an agent of Overwatch is – unprecedented, one, but also remarkably eye-opening. He enjoys it, oddly enough, knowing he can do as he likes, knowing that he _can_ in fact follow Hana into battle without worry of severe repercussions.

Regardless, Hana leans over to give him an impromptu hug. He’ll probably never get used to them as he loops an arm around her shoulder and squeezes her back, and then the comms go back into their ears and it’s back to business as he asks, “Genji, any sign of Stray?”

“ _Yes, Commander_ – _tried to get your attention earlier, actually._ ” He sounds amused, and Ana chuckles as Jack scoffs goodnaturedly. “ _He changed into more casual wear and has made his way to the hospital. I am not sure why. Should I follow him in?_ ”

“You know why that’s a bad idea, Genji.”

“ _Cyborg ninja, Commander. No one would be the wiser._ ”

“ _I disagree_ ,” Hanzo says, just briefly, before his comm clicks off again.

Genji huffs, unable to retort, and Jack says, “Stay put. Keep an eye out, figure out what room he’s in if possible.”

“ _Understood_.”

“Hana, can you get in touch with him?”

“I can try,” Hana says, already tapping away at her phone, folding one leg over the other as she leans forward. “How long until I need to go back out?”

“ _It’s been hardly fifteen minutes,_ ” Ana says. “ _Plenty of time to figure things out. Jack, perhaps you should go back out, considering we’ve lost a pair of eyes._ ”

Jack grunts assent and hefts himself to his feet. He’s loathe to part from Hana, naturally, but he can see the wisdom in Ana’s words, and while he has no doubt that Lúcio can handle himself in a fight, the threat of a bullet to the brain is one that can never be ignored even with Ana’s watchful eye. “Don’t cause too much trouble,” he tells Hana regardless.

“Yes, dad,” she says with a snort, and his chest constricts at that. He’s still not sure how to feel about it, not really, but he gives her a smile before he walks out the door, nodding to Symmetra as he sweeps past and she takes his place inside the room. One of the security guards takes Symmetra’s place as he continues on to the stadium itself, music blaring and shaking the walls, almost, and he adjusts his comm before popping in his earplugs and continuing out.

“No rest for the weary,” he says to himself, earning him a murmured agreement from Ana, and so it is, as he takes his seat facing the stage, far enough away to be somewhat inconspicuous.

* * *

[D.Va]: /w @Stray  
To [Stray]: where are you??  
[Stray]: Hospital.  
[Stray]: Apparently my handler has been pumped full of sleeping draught.  
[Stray]: He’s sleeping it off as we speak.  
[Stray]: He has no next of kin except me on his paperwork. So they called me.  
[Stray]: Overwatch doesn’t mess around.  
To [Stray]: omfg  
To [Stray]: is he ok??  
[Stray]: I... think so?  
[Stray]: MEKA’s sent out another handler to keep an eye on me.  
[Stray]: Well. “Sent.” You know.  
To [Stray]: oh.  
[Stray]: Yeah.  
To [Stray]: _her_.  
[Stray]: Yeah.  
To [Stray]: any chance you can keep her away?  
[Stray]: No.  
[Stray]: I won’t make it back in time for intermission, probably. Are you okay with gaming on your own?  
To [Stray]: won’t be the first time  
To [Stray]: piss her off for me  
[Stray]: Fortunately, she hasn’t read through my psych evals. Let’s just say I’m _way_ ahead of you.  
[Stray]: And that this makes it much easier to follow Apple’s instructions.  
To [Stray]: ㅋㅋㅋ  
To [Stray]: i trust your judgment  
[Stray]: Now there’s a surprise.  
[Stray]: Just kidding.  
To [Stray]: stray, making jokes? call the presses  
[Stray]: Har har.  
[Stray]: See you soon.

* * *

Hana’s voice comes over comm, briefly. “ _Stray’s not here, so I will be entertaining on my own. Also, he will be returning with another handler._ ”

“ _Whose?_ ” Ana asks.

There’s a slight pause before Hana says, “ _Mine_ ,” and then her comm clicks off and Jack is tense again, arms pulling tight against the crisp suit jacket. It elicits some stares, which would be humorous in any other circumstance, and it takes an effort to relax his shoulders and recline back into his chair, resuming his appearance as idle bodyguard as Hana takes to the stage with a wave and a grin, as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn’t just dropped a grenade and then pretended it wouldn’t go off.

Now that he’s watching, he can see how the visual cues that tell him she’s unsettled – the unblinking eyes, the slight stiffness in her gait, the way her voice is a note higher than usual. It’s convincing enough that no one can tell, as she recounts a dramatic and wholly untrue story as to where Stray has gone off to (something about a call to his mom, and Jack doesn’t miss the way she trips over the word for some reason), and then she sits down and pulls up some other game, one that can host an audience or something along those lines, he’s not sure. It’s been a long time since he’s played video games with any degree of seriousness, and he settles back in his chair, ever-vigilant and watchful.

“ _Stray is returning with a woman,_ ” Genji says without warning. He doesn't sound out of breath, not really, but perhaps slightly winded wouldn't be inaccurate. “ _I’m assuming this is Hana’s handler._ ”

“Follow them,” Jack says. “Make sure nothing happens.”

“ _Affirmative._ ”

Hana’s comm is not in her ear; likely for the best, Jack thinks, as she laughs and tells the crowd, “Go easy on me, okay?” to which the response is laughter and smiles and it’s a wonder how she makes these people so happy, even after they’d watched Lύcio perform the first half of his set, when she herself is not.

“ _Winston has briefed those who are at Gibraltar,_ ” Hanzo reports. He’d finished relaying everything Hana had revealed to the gorilla a while ago, and naturally Winston had been quick to respond and form a plan of some kind. “ _The general idea seems to be going to Siberia sooner rather than later. Once Hana has been secured, most of us will be sent there._ ”

“Including Hana?” Jack asks.

“ _So it seems,_ ” Hanzo says. “ _Zarya has assured us her skills with be particularly useful on the battlefield. MEKA pilots present in Siberia already have proven to be a valuable asset according to reports, as well._ ”

“Interesting.”

“ _Seems plausible_ ,” Ana supplies. “ _Essentially it’s pitting an omnic against another omnic, which is usually effective._ ”

“ _It makes me uneasy regardless_ ,” Hanzo says. “ _MEKA pilots are trained to fight one threat only. I doubt they have ever gone up against omnics built for combat._ ”

“That's not strictly true,” Jack says, but doesn't elaborate at Hanzo's questioning noise; it's not his story to tell.

“ _There is not anything we can do about it, unfortunately,_ ” Ana says, sighing quietly. “ _Let us just hope they do not die before we get there._ ”

“True enough,” Jack says, feeling some comfort in the fact that Hana isn’t listening into the decidedly morbid conversation. “Any progress, Genji?”

“ _Stray and his companion have reached the stadium_ ,” Genji says. “ _They took a taxi._ ”

“ _I see them,_ ” Symmetra says. “ _Should I place them in the backroom, Commander, or send Stray up to Hana onstage?_ ”

“Get them to stay put, yeah,” Jack says. “Last thing we need is the handler wandering off somewhere where she shouldn’t be without Stray there to keep an eye on her. Genji, you back in position?”

“ _Yes. Security detail has been swapped out for fresh faces, but otherwise there haven’t been any changes so far._ ”

“ _We’ll be fine_ ,” Ana says placatingly. “ _Focus on the objective. We still have a mission to complete_.”

“ _One of us will have to brief Lúcio,_ ” Hanzo says.

“ _I have already done so,_ ” Symmetra says. “ _He is in the backroom with Stray and Hana’s handler. I expect there won’t be any trouble._ ” A brief pause. “ _Too much trouble, at least._ ”

“He’ll keep them occupied, if nothing else,” Jack grunts. “Carry on.”

“ _Aye aye, Commander_ ,” Ana says, no doubt wearing a shit-eating grin. Jack surreptitiously presses a hand to his side and raises his middle finger, and Ana laughs because she sees everything, all the time, in his experience. “ _At least it is halfway over._ ”

“ _Small mercies_ ,” Hanzo agrees. “ _My legs are beginning to ache._ ”

“ _Your legs are prosthetics,_ anija _._ ”

“ _I do not remember asking for your opinion, Genji._ ”

“ _Children, behave,_ ” Ana says, and Jack snorts on a laugh, Hana continues to talk and play at the same time, he can only hope Stray and Hana’s handler and Lúcio are getting along, and – well, there are worse places and situations to be in, really.

* * *

Jack makes sure to be at Hana’s elbow as they near the backroom following intermission, Jack returning Symmetra’s nod with one of his own. Lucio’s already gone, out onstage and playing his music – who knew a single music set could be so long, really – and Hana pauses at the door, hand hovering over the knob, as she takes in a breath.

“Her name is Eun Ji Myeong,” she says, not looking at him. “She is... particularly good at reading people. It would be best to let Stray do most of the talking. The less she picks up on you, the better.”

“Understood,” he says. “Anything else I should know?”

Hana blows out a brief puff of air, shoulders slumping slightly. He’s close enough to see the bags under her eyes, the ones she and Symmetra had painstakingly painted over a few hours before, and her exhaustion filters into her voice when she speaks. “If I make any indication that you mean more to me than just a bodyguard,” she says, “Do not react to it. She will seize upon it immediately and use it to MEKA’s advantage.”

“Does Stray know not to bring it up?” Symmetra asks, eyebrows gently furrowing as she places a hand on Hana’s shoulder.

“Of course. I trust him. You can as well.” Hana stares down at her gloved hand resting on the door’s knob; it’s more than clear that she is unwilling to enter, shoulders tense and breathing carefully steady.

“Perhaps it would be prudent to have a safe word of some kind,” Symmetra suggests, glancing across the top of Hana’s head to meet Jack’s eyes. He nods, slightly, and Symmetra says, “If you say a certain phrase, I can make an excuse to get you out of the room.”

“You always have my back,” Hana says without missing a beat. She nods to herself at that, satisfied, as Symmetra lifts her hand off of Hana’s shoulder. “If I say that.”

“Of course. Do not forget your comm.”

Hana reaches into a pocket and pops the device into her ear with no change in expression. Jack and Symmetra exchange another glance before she tilts his head at him, and he turns his attention back to Hana and says, “Whenever you’re ready.”

“I am not,” she says, and then she twists the knob and pushes her way inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a reminder that if you're wondering what's going on in my corner of the world - [check my tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/), yo. that's where i post updates on new chapters, extra tidbits about tdlh, so on and so forth. it's a good time, really! plus you can ask me whatever you'd like (within reason), so that's always fun. plus you'll hear about things like the new update schedule (every friday now, as listed in the summary), and also the fact that today was supposed a double update day, but turkey day with family got in the way. good times, right?
> 
> to american followers, make sure to support those at standing rock! ironic that we celebrate thanksgiving when native americans are being attacked by power/water hoses in sub-freezing temperatures.
> 
> also - recently i had a disquisition of sorts on the topic of race and ethnicity in relation to reaper | gabriel reyes and soldier: 76 | jack morrison. if you're interested to see where i stand on that issue, feel free to [check it out on my tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/tagged/the+gabriel+reyes+disquisition+night/page/2). i'm hesitant to speak about it here, but... i haven't put out any statements of intent or opinion just yet, since i want to collect more information and ideas from others, so i'm willing to hear your thoughts on the matter. just do me a solid and do so over on tumblr, ok? thanks, fam.
> 
> onto lighter topics, however. so some logistics: if you haven't yet noticed, i've placed this story into a series that's called, quite simply, "thanks, dad. love, hana". what might be interesting for you is that i've written extra shorts and ficlets and placed them in the series for your perusal. if you want to check those out, go find the link below where it says _this work is part of a series_ and click your way through. c:
> 
> next, THIS GLORIOUSNESS. [arcaneadagio](http://arcaneadagio.tumblr.com/) (that's the author of OECC) [drew hana and her squadmates](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/image/153156035370) and they are _beautiful_. she also [drew MIM being, well, himself](http://arcaneadagio.tumblr.com/post/153157170585/more-doodles-about-the-meka-squad-from), and i promise you won't regret checking it out.
> 
> also... a few days ago i had a request night on tumblr. if you want to [check out those ficlets](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/tagged/tiny-request-night) as well, feel free! some aren't tdlh-canon, but maybe you'll find them interesting.
> 
> additionally, there's [a new tag on my tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/tagged/thanks-dad-love-hana-backstage) that focuses on the work that goes on behind the scenes to get this fic to the way it is right now. i recently posted a [huge thing about MEKA](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/post/153581112125/some-trivia-on-meka-as-seen-in-tdlh-ch64-and-65) \- how it's structured, what handlers are for, et cetera - that might be interesting for you all to peruse. (many thanks to roguevector, as always.)
> 
> another thing - i recently created a post that collects tdlh headcanons into a giant list for you to peruse. as of right now, it's updated to include all headcanons up to chapter 55. if that's something you want to see, [check it out here](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/headcanon-masterlist).
> 
> aaaand i think that's it! no headcanons beacuse i've run out of characters to use, so. cheers, and see you all next week!
> 
>  **edit** : the beautiful picture in the fic itself was made by the amazing [jaru](http://tacticianjaru.tumblr.com/post/154050995370/arcaneadagios-interpretation-of-snowshebas)! she also made this drawing too!


	67. OPERATION: SYNAESTHESIA AUDITIVIA (part 4 of 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there's concerts and crises, not necessarily in that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been a while since i've been here, haha! 
> 
> do me a solid and read the end notes in their entirety, yeah? thanks, fam. have a great and fantastic and wonderful day today!

Hana’s chest is already tight as she pushes through the door, and her throat seizes up when she sees Stray and Myeong Daewi-nim sitting side-by-side, her handler’s back ramrod straight with hands folded neatly in her lap while Stray is spread out, taking up as much room as possible and, seemingly, doing what he can to make Myeong Daewi-nim uncomfortable. It’s working, Hana thinks, because her handler has a tiny twitch of her left eyelid, barely noticeable unless one knew to look for it; regardless, she meets Myeong Daewi-nim’s hard, even stare with a flat gaze, moving to stand across from them as 76 situates himself at the door.

“ _Myeong Daewi-nim_ ,” she says stiffly, bowing her head slightly before sinking down to a seat.

“ _Song Byeongjang_ ,” Myeong Daewi-nim answers in Korean. Brown eyes narrow at her; Hana merely continues to look, tightening her jaw and refusing to give an inch. “ _Tak Byeongjang was just telling me about this concert of yours._ ”

“ _Yes,_ ” Stray says. “ _She is very interested in Lúcio in particular. Apparently he’s made quite the hubbub in Korea – or at least among MEKA ranks._ ”

He has a hint of a smirk on his face as he says this, and Hana carefully eases herself back into her couch, keeping her hands folded on her knees and her face carefully disinterested. Myeong Daewi-nim will miss nothing she does, no matter how deliberate or unintentional, and Hana has no plans to give any ground in this game of wits.

(She’s so, so tired. Myeong Daewi-nim treats her like the foot soldier she is, and she’s not sure if she wants that familiarity anymore.)

“ _The_ _daewi was just telling me about the other MEKA squads,_ ” Stray says, the smug look on his face dropping the instant Myeong Daewi-nim looks over. “ _Apparently they’ve been scattered all throughout the world. Yours is stationed at the North Korean border. Mine is in Siberia._ ”

“ _That’s hardly relevant, Byeongjang Tak,_ ” Myeong Daewi-nim says, voice hard. “ _And you know that that is not what I want to talk about._ ”

Stray lifts a careful eyebrow. “ _Well, then, go ahead, ask your questions._ ”

Myeong Daewi-nim scowls at him. Stray gives her a level look; she can’t nail him with insubordination, not quite, but it’s so close to it that the desire is obviously there. Hana knows this song and dance, though - this is why handlers are never assigned to pilots without extensive knowledge of their charges, because there’s absolutely nothing stopping the MEKA driver from walking circles around them.

“ _MEKA is very curious as to your motivations for your... departure, Song Byeongjang,_ ” Myeong Daewi-nim says after a moment, shifting her gaze until she’s looking at her. Hana doesn’t respond right away, and the _daewi_ spares the swiftest of glances at 76 behind her, just for a split second. “ _You are in grave danger, showing yourself to the public like this without our support._ ”

“That is a risk I am willing to take,” Hana says in English.

“ _Why do it?_ ” the _daewi_ asks.

“ _Why not?_ ” Stray says. He’s yet to change back into the dress, and when Myeong Daewi-nim looks back, he’s got a compact mirror and is reapplying his eyeliner. Carefully nonchalant, Hana thinks, and has to keep down a laugh. “ _She’s famous_ ,” Stray points out. “ _Honestly, she can do whatever she wants. The public will love her regardless._ ”

“ _That’s not a reason,_ ” Myeong Daewi-nim says, and then, more frostily, “ _And I did not ask you._ ”

“ _Technically, you have no right to ask D.Va anything_ ,” Stray points out, snapping the compact shut and jamming it into a pocket. Myeong Daewi-nim narrows her eyes at him and he says, “ _You’re_ my _handler right now, not hers. I’ve read the rules, and so have you._ ”

Hana lets out a slow, even breath, and resolves to make this up to Stray somehow. It’s the least she can do as she briefly makes eye contact with him, mouthing her thanks, and he acknowledges it with a blink before lifting his chin and rolling his head to look at Myeong Daewi-nim again.

“ _You toe a dangerous line, Byeongjang Tak,_ ” Myeong Daewi-nim breathes, quiet. “ _You know your collateral._ ”

At that, a complicated expression twists his face, just for a moment, and then Stray goes quiet, conceding the point. Hana grinds her teeth, just the tiniest bit and crosses her arms when the _daewi_ , knowing she’s won this battle, turns her sights back on her.

“ _Answer the question, Song Byeongjang_ ,” she says, and Hana has to bite her lip to keep from answering immediately, so ingrained is it in her to obey commands issued in such a fashion.

“I am no longer a member of MEKA _,_ ” Hana says at last, still in English. “You have no jurisdiction over me _._ ”

“ _That means we will be confiscating your mech,_ ” Myeong Daewi-nim says, a quick rebuttal. She raises an eyebrow and says, “ _It does not belong to you._ ”

Hana feels a shiver run down her spine. She doesn’t acknowledge it and feels something hot and tight curl into her chest as she breathes in, slow and steady. “I raised the money for it. I paid for it. I have installed my own upgrades. Startup codes are keyed to my biometrics. It is mine, and useless to any other pilot.”

Myeong Daewi-nim tilts her head at Hana; there’s a flash of something in those brown irises, and Hana is hesitant to call it _pride_. Pride for - who, Hana? Something else? “ _It is not yours to keep, regardless. We will be taking it back with us no matter your decision._ ”

“No,” Hana says, firm.

“ _Do not try to argue,_ ” Myeong Daewi-nim says. “ _Our country is in a state of emergency. You do us – and yourself – no favors by behaving this way._ ”

“I will aid my country when the time comes,” Hana says. “And when I do, I will not be alone.”

“ _You’d bring Overwatch into our affairs?_ ” Myeong Daewi-nim says snappishly, picking up on Hana’s intent immediately. “ _That is why you left?_ ”

As if she would be so transparent. “My reasons are my own.”

“ _Song Byeongjang, the ramifications of your actions – if you’ve told Overwatch of what South Korea has fought for decades –_ ” and here the _daewi_ takes in a deep breath, forcing her shoulders back a bit to control her temper – “ _You have told them military secrets. For that, you can be tried and imprisoned for treason._ ”

“It hardly matters,” Hana says, and at her core she’s shaking and D.Va is prowling the corners of her mind, but she swallows hard and says again, “It hardly matters when it took you this long to see me directly. If you cared enough, you would have reached out sooner.”

“ _We were watching, at first, to see what you would do_ ,” Myeong Daewi-nim says, and Hana counts this as a small victory, given her handler is actually explaining something Hana would have otherwise never learned, “ _And it was deemed that you were not doing anything that threatened MEKA personally. This, however – this is different._ ”

“This being – what?” Myeong Daewi-nim gestures to the room around her. Stray meets Hana’s gaze and mouths _the concert_ , and Hana narrows her eyes and says, “Because of Lúcio? That seems doubtful.”

“ _A publicity event of this size, and no mention of MEKA anywhere_ ,” Myeong Daewi-nim says. “ _Not to mention that you are flaunting your allegiance to Overwatch even more flamboyantly. People in Korea are beginning to wonder if you ever stood for them at all. Do you understand the political consequences if the military loses public favor?_ ”

Yes, Hana wants to say. Yes, she understands better than anyone. But doing so will trap her in a circular argument, one where she won’t be able to win, and the _daewi_ knows this. Hana can tell she does by the sharp, predatory look in her eyes, by her carefully relaxed-but-ready posture. This is a battle of wills, and with Stray out of the picture, it’s one Hana will have to win on her own – and she has to be careful of what she says.

“I have made several declarations of how I will return to South Korea whenever the omnic chooses to attack,” Hana says, vetting each word in her mind before letting them past her lips. “I have referred to my squadmates frequently. Stray being here is proof of that. If people are that convinced that I have abandoned them, then perhaps MEKA is not doing a good enough job advertising my streams and making information available to them.”

Myeong Daewi-nim sits back in the couch, one eyebrow quirking, and Hana immediately, instantly knows she’s made a mistake, somewhere, somehow. She breathes out, slowly, and braces herself for the worst.

“ _She’s right, you know_ ,” Stray says the second the _daewi_ opens her mouth. The handler immediately glares at him, clearly about to say something about his collateral, but Stray cuts her off. “ _My squad tunes into her streams every now and then – she does them almost every night, you know – and her fans clearly know where her allegiance lies. True, she doesn’t support MEKA outright anymore, but they don’t know that. The problem could easily be fixed if MEKA merely publicized D.Va’s streams and events more._ ”

“ _I didn’t ask you_ ,” Myeong Daewi-nim growls.

“ _You didn’t ask her, either_ ,” Stray says, and then he freezes when Myeong Daewi-nim’s hand rises to the side of her head. She doesn’t press her own comm, not yet, not quite, but the threat is there, and Stray, with a quiet snarl, backs down. His hackles are still raised, though, Hana knows, and she resolves to get him something – anything – to make up for this. He’s risking so much for her, not because he personally likes her but because he knows that it’s for the greater good, because he knows that it will aid Korean survival. She can respect that, but she respects _him_ so much more. He’s grown so much from the arrogant gamer she remembers from three years ago.

“ _Look_ ,” Myeong Daewi-nim says after a moment. She sounds weary. She looks weary, too, as she shoves black hair behind her ear, and Hana is struck with the idea that her handler is _tired_. “ _I know what this looks like – some sort of scheme to get you back to Korea. I’m sure Stray has hinted as such, at least._ ” Stray raises a hand to press it above his heart, as if offended. The _daewi_ ignores him in favor of staring at Hana; perhaps it hadn’t been as dangerous as he’d said it had been? That seems doubtful, and her handler goes on, “ _You’ve been streaming Overwatch missions_ _in your mech, obviously._ ”

“They have asked me to, on occasion.”

“ _Yes. I recall your... footage of Rio de Janeiro. Conveniently taken off of the Internet the few minutes it had resided there, of course, at least for the general public_.” Myeong Daewi-nim sighs. “ _Disregarding the fact that you view Overwatch as your superiors – you realize that this makes it seem like MEKA and Overwatch are collaborating, yes?_ ”

“I have stated as well that I have deserted MEKA,” Hana says. “Any assumption as such is hardly any fault of my own.”

“ _That doesn’t matter. We cannot be seen working together with Overwatch, Song Byeongjang,_ ” Myeong Daewi-nim says. “ _It would render already tenuous relations... all the more delicate, shall we say._ ”

Tenuous – meaning the new leaders aren’t exactly welcome in MEKA by her immediate officers. Hana tucks that tidbit away for later and doesn’t dare exchange a glance with Stray, though he sends one her way. Myeong Daewi-nim doesn’t know that Hana and her squadmates have some working knowledge of MEKA’s new formation, and it would be best if it remains that way. “You will have to specify, _Myeong Daewi-nim_.”

“ _That is classified, I’m afraid_ ,” Myeong Daewi-nim says, sounding not at all apologetic. “ _All you need to know is that there are some in MEKA who do not want to be associated with Overwatch in any shape or form, and that your existence outside of MEKA, with your mech, is thereby unacceptable. Whether or not you come with us willingly, you will be returning to South Korea in the near future._ ”

“You are threatening me,” Hana says, eyes narrowing.

“ _But of course,_ ” Myeong Daewi-nim says blandly; “ _You know that this is how MEKA has always worked. I have collateral just as you do, and the fact that you are shirking your jobs reflects poorly on not just you, but everyone you have worked with and for. Your squadmates, for example._ ”

“You would not hurt my squadmates,” Hana says dismissively, calling Myeong Daewi-nim’s bluff. “MEKA would not risk pilots, especially those of such high caliber.”

(She hadn’t realized the _daewi_ had collateral herself, though it should have occurred to her sooner. Just how far did the corruption rise?)

“ _Perhaps_ ,” Myeong Daewi-nim says in response, conceding the point with the tiniest nod. “ _The point stands, Agent Song. You are endangering many of us in MEKA by doing what you are doing. Regardless of how you feel about this, you should endeavor to return sooner rather than later._ ”

She’s... trying to guilt her, Hana thinks. Such a contrary method to use, when so little of what Hana loves remains in Korea, when so much has been destroyed and will be destroyed and Myeong Daewi-nim will never understand the family Hana has found outside of Korea’s borders. Her chin stays up; her eyes flash. “The Boss has not contacted me as such,” she says, “Nor have any of you reached out to me sooner. Why is it a problem now? What has changed?”

“ _Classified,_ ” Myeong Daewi-nim answers, almost smug.

“If you cannot tell me, then the other pilots likely have not been told, either. And if you have not told them, then they do not know they are in danger because of me. And if that is true, then how much danger are they in, truly?”

Myeong Daewi-nim blinks. Stray looks faintly impressed, the expression wiped clean from his face the moment the _daewi_ makes a motion in his direction, just in case. Something cool flows down Hana’s spine; _relief_ , a knowledge that in this battle of wills, she is holding her own, perhaps even winning. _I can do this_ , she thinks, and feels 76’s careful eyes watching her back.

“ _I cannot tell you anything for certain_ ,” Myeong Daewi-nim says at last. “ _And it’s clear that you will not return on your own volition._ ” Her eyes are sad, somehow, or at least they don’t have the fiery flicker to them as they did before, as she says, “ _For all of our sakes, I hope you change your mind._ ”

“That is hardly an answer,” Hana says. When she stands, Myeong Daewi-nim remains seated alongside Stray, as Hana had hoped. “And you do not scare me, _ajumma_.”

Myeong Daewi-nim’s eyes flash as they narrow, the nickname burning at her as clear as day; but she’s quiet when she says, “ _I’m sure that you do not_.” She sighs, just a short huff of air, and tells Hana, “ _But I am not the one you should fear._ ”

* * *

[...]

[Stray]: So Apple was right. That’s basically what this boils down to.  
[AppleCIder]: seemed pretty reasonable to think the more prolific pilots’ handlers would have a better idea of what’s happening. glad to see i wasn’t wrong.  
[takes22tango]: We still don’t know why this has happened, though.  
[MIM]: well  
[MIM]: actually  
[MIM]: idk maybe we do??  
[D.Va]: what do you mean?  
[MIM]: i might be totally off when i say this but like  
[MIM]: ok so you all know that i’m basically protecting stray’s parents rn right  
[Stray]: Yes. Thank you for that.  
[MIM]: np np  
[MIM]: well maybe a bit of a problem but i digress (ಠ_ಠ)  
[AppleCIder]: it’s a miracle you haven’t been caught yet.  
[MIM]: it’s not that hard right  
[MIM]: not like anyone’s gonna be looking for drones and things around the house  
[MIM]: besides you programmed them apple have some faith  
[takes22tango]: If you get caught, there’s no telling what will happen to you two.  
[MIM]: psh it’s fine  
[MIM]: look the point is that there’s been a _lot_ of talk about how long the martial law’s been going on in sk  
[MIM]: a lot of people are losing faith that meka will ever defeat the omnic at all  
[MIM]: i mean it’s been what. three years since we were cobbled together, not counting the years the military had been fighting against the omnic already so  
[MIM]: the fact that there’s still no progress is kinda  
[MIM]: pissing people off i guess  
[AppleCIder]: you think? that would make sense, but most of our fans seem pretty positive.  
[AppleCIder]: or at least they are on stream. then again, i’m not as popular as d.va, so.  
[takes22tango]: To be honest, we’ve been in need of a new perspective for a while. The Boss has been largely ineffective lately.  
[takes22tango]: I mean, under their leadership we lost Busan, and then we lost New Busan - twice.  
[AppleCIder]: that might just be their fault for rebuilding in the same geographical region, though.  
[Stray]: It wasn’t in the same spot. It was hundreds of kilometers from the original area.  
[Stray]: The omnic’s struck it every time. The fact that the proper defenses seemingly haven’t been put into place is concerning.  
[AppleCIder]: ignoring the fact that proper defenses aren’t always enough, obviously.  
[Stray]: Right.  
[takes22tango]: Either way, I can see why the South Korean government might make a move like this. Morale must be pretty low, all things considered.  
[MIM]: doesn’t help that d.va seemingly abandoned the struggle  
[D.Va]: ...  
[takes22tango]: And that Geguri was taken out last year.  
[AppleCIder]: and the martial law. and the draft. and the fact that we might have to start rationing shit soon unless the u.n. gets around to lending us a hand.  
[MIM]: oh god the martial law  
[MIM]: people keep telling me about the secret police and what they’re up to  
[takes22tango]: Enforcing curfew, mostly.  
[AppleCIder]: and harassing the omnic citizens, don’t forget that.  
[AppleCIder]: they tried to arrest my stepdad a couple of days ago because he was out with my dad.  
[D.Va]: oh right i keep forgetting your dad is a human but your stepdad is an omnic  
[AppleCIder]: and my mom’s arms are augmented so like. it’s tough for them rn and i can see why people are so frustrated.  
[Stray]: There’s a reason so many omnics have been leaving the country.  
[MIM]: fuck the police that’s all i’m saying  
[takes22tango]: There have to be better ways to figure out if people have been hacked then bursting into their homes and scanning them.  
[takes22tango]: It’s so invasive. And awful. And there have been so many studies showing how forcibly going through an omnic’s records and memories can scar them for life.  
[AppleCIder]: the worst is explaining to people that yes, omnics can get PTSD!! and other mental problems like humans!  
[Stray]: They are our at most risk citizens, too. Pushing them away like this is incredibly ineffective in the grand scheme of things.  
[MIM]: yeah well the concentration camps didn’t work out last time so i guess this is their next best idea  
[AppleCIder]: oh my god don’t talk about the camps. don’t jinx it.  
[takes22tango]: They’ve only just finished paying reparations to those who were forced into them, too. I’m not sure what the government will do when all of this finishes up and we get to review what the police did.  
[D.Va]: and what meka did  
[takes22tango]: Yeah.  
[AppleCIder]: we’re all too young for this honestly.  
[D.Va]: you know i’m one of the only people at overwatch with actual military training?  
[D.Va]: i’m more of a soldier than 90% of the people here  
[MIM]: haha wtf  
[AppleCIder]: you put them in their places i hope.  
[takes22tango]: It’s D.Va. Of course she did.  
[Stray]: They don’t disrespect her here.  
[D.Va]: i’ve led a few times as well, or at least issued commands that were followed  
[MIM]: HA i can just imagine  
[MIM]: like one of us is on our first date with a civilian: “so what did you like to do as a kid?” “well honestly i had the most fun when my mech blew up and i’d be forced to use a sniper rifle. headshots are really satisfying” “wtf”  
[Stray]: ㅋㅋㅋ  
[takes22tango]: mim!!  
[MIM]: what?? you know it’s true  
[AppleCIder]: ok, i admit it, i laughed.  
[takes22tango]: I know, but it’s still not - we joke about this kind of thing all the time, but there’s still a line!  
[MIM]: what line? we have secret police that break into people’s houses and wipe omnics’ memory banks clean and do all kinds of terrible awful things  
[MIM]: anything we say can’t be any worse than that  
[Stray]: The populace would agree, too.  
[D.Va]: well  
[D.Va]: i could come back and make an appearance maybe? that would definitely boost morale  
[Stray]: Don’t.  
[MIM]: that’s exactly what the handlers want though  
[MIM]: you come back, they’re never letting you go  
[takes22tango]: Not to mention, there will be severe repercussions for desertion.  
[AppleCIder]: we’ve got another year or so before the omnic attacks again. you can afford to dally with overwatch until then.  
[Stray]: We need Overwatch’s help. You are our liaison.  
[Stray]: If you leave their ranks, there’s no guarantee that they’ll come out when the time comes.  
[D.Va]: i know  
[D.Va]: i just  
[D.Va]: i hate sitting here without being able to help  
[takes22tango]: If it makes you feel better, we’re doing that, too. Except we’re at the North Korean border, staring down some foot soldiers.  
[AppleCIder]: makes you wonder if we’ll ever go and try to conquer them ㅋㅋㅋ  
[AppleCIder]: our tech surpasses theirs at this point, anyway, given how easily we’ve been able to spy on them.  
[Stray]: We can’t afford it. North Korea is already threatening to attack us.  
[Stray]: Which is stupid, because we stand a better chance of defeating it if we work together. But they’re right. We’re weakened while the omnic attacks.  
[Stray]: For all we know, they might invade the next time the omnic comes.  
[takes22tango]: Now there’s a chilling thought.  
[D.Va]: we might be able to get russia to help if that happens  
[D.Va]: it’s not likely, but we can try  
[AppleCIder]: either way, fighting on both fronts is just asking for trouble. hope we didn’t jinx it.  
[MIM]: btw stray your moms say hi  
[MIM]: also they keep asking if you’re getting the care packages they send you  
[MIM]: i told them you do  
[Stray]: Thanks.  
[AppleCIder]: wait, you do?  
[Stray]: Yeah. Sometimes. They get lost in the mail on occasion, but MEKA does do its best in that regard.  
[takes22tango]: As long as you don't send anything back, that's fine.  
[takes22tango]: No one really needs to know what kind of stuff we go through.

* * *

It's near twenty-two hours when Hana and Lúcio finally make it back to the hotel, thankfully in one piece. Stray had left with the _daewi_ , of course, promising to be online as soon as he could shake her; meanwhile, Satya had split off halfway through the journey after a phone call from her superior – Sanjay, she thinks – needing to make a last-minute visit with another Vishkar contact. 76 is thus the only one who is with them in person, bags starting to show under his eyes even as he runs a cursory scan over the room, checking for bugs and hidden cameras. He finds three by the time Hana’s taken off her shoes, and he’s grumbling about abysmal security standards as the small pile of expensive-looking surveillance equipment builds on the table in the living room.

“Can’t escape it,” Lúcio says with a laugh. “It’d be faster to do a digital scan, though.”

“I am,” 76 answers, tapping his visor, even as he ducks down to peek under an armchair. “Never hurts to be thorough, though.”

“I suppose.” Lúcio turns to Hana. He looks – exhausted. Entertaining does that do you, Hana knows, and she cracks a smile as he delicately lifts his headset from his ears, shaking out his hair as he does so. “Some crowd, huh? Can hardly believe it, and I was _there_.”

“We are pretty famous,” Hana agrees. She casts a glance around the elaborate room and hefts a small sigh; now she has to begin the arduous process of scrubbing her makeup off and settling in for a short little stream, so long as she can manage it. Her verbal spar with her handler had taken a lot out of her, and she can feel the desire to sleep as a longing pull in her bones. “They were very enthusiastic nonetheless.”

“I’m sending most of the proceeds to omnic-friendly charities,” Lúcio says. “Some of it goes to me and you, obviously, and to Overwatch too, but. Well, it’s good to do some good, haha.”

“I thought you might send some to Rio de Janeiro?” Hana inquires.

“Oh, that too,” Lúcio says. “But even now, the place is pretty disorganized. I’m holding off until it’s a bit more stable. The last thing I want is to funnel money indirectly to Vishkar somehow.”

“Naturally,” Hana says, barely holding back an eyeroll. She instead focuses her attention on the pile of bugs and things on the table; the quantity it holds is not yet alarming and is entirely unsurprising. She remembers going through the motions herself, back in the day, as 76 checks first outside the fridge, underneath, on top, and then inside of it, and she says to Lúcio, “I will be taking the leftmost bathroom.”

“In relation to – the entrance, got it. Better let him check it over for stuff, first.”

“I can do it,” Hana says with a wave of her hand, and 76 nods before he resumes checking over the kitchen.

The bathroom is – large. The toilet is in another room, of course, and the shower and bath fusion are separated by a thin wall, but it’s large all the same and Hana feels small as she swipes her hand along the counter, along the side, at its base. Per her expectations, there are more cameras than listening devices in here than outside – and at that, she can only shake her head and crush the things under her heel – and she calls 76 to do one last digital scan before she closes the door and strips down, folding her clothes neatly next to the sink before stepping into the shower itself.

Now that she’s alone, though, she can feel the reality pressing in, heavy and cold against her senses, as she turns the shower’s knob. The day’s events nip at her heels, incessant, and she closes her eyes and drags her hands down her face, scrubbing her skin clean of cosmetics as best she can. Makeup remover would be more effective, she knows, but that requires more effort than she’s willing to give, and soon she’s slid to a seat at the shower’s base, slumped forward so her forehead rests on her knees.

( _I’m so tired_ , she thinks, and D.Va is silent.)

The hot spray against her back is the only thing that keeps her awake as time passes, her mind doggedly running through each and every little thing that had happened throughout the course of the day. Her quiet and, frankly, nonsensical conversation over breakfast with 76 comes and goes with hardly a flash, preparation and practice for the concert throughout the morning, a brief instance where she had been mobbed outside and had handed out several autographs. Then lunch, then more preparations, a quick dinner, and then she remembers the games of _Starcraft_ vividly, fingers dancing along the keyboard in familiar patterns as the roar of the crowd urged her forward.

And then – Myeong Eun Ji. Stray’s stern and stately face, rendered vulnerable and alone through a series of sharp words and an overhanging threat. The weariness lining the wrinkles at the corner of her handler’s eyes, the silent pleas in every half-hearted threat, the uncertainty of what lay in her future. _I am not the one you should fear_ , she had said, and Hana shudders in a breath, huddling under the warm water and hugging her knees to her chest. She’d won a victory today, somehow. With Stray’s help, of course, gentle prodding at best, but she’d won, and the _daewi_ knew it, and that meant – something.

That meant South Korea wouldn’t rest until they had what they thought was theirs. Her mech was hidden in the stadium still – 76 had vetoed moving it when she had pleaded, pointing out that no one knew where it was and her flying it would remove that safety net, and Satya had set up several turrets around it and erected a temporary hardlight curtain to shield it from view. It would have to do. Hana had the recall mechanism with her just in case, but that hardly changed a thing when she heard the _daewi_ ’s soft, cutting voice in her ears, playing her threats over and over and over again. Today Hana had summoned a bravado she isn’t sure she could replicate if she tried, and yet...

They wouldn’t kill her. They couldn’t touch her, had nothing to lure her back to South Korea. But that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t try, and Hana feels herself breathe and knows that Myeong Daewi-nim is right: she’ll return to South Korea eventually. Hopefully on her own terms, but she knows just as much as the _daewi_ does that that may not be the case further down the line. She can try. She will try. She can hope. But she’s realistic, too, and she’ll need to discuss contingency plans with Winston soon enough.

And the other thing the _daewi_ mentioned – the hints that MEKA’s new leadership absolutely cannot be seen working with Overwatch. Hana can only assume that does indeed mean Talon is in charge. _I am not the one you should fear_ , she had said, and Hana can only assume that means _him_. Perhaps not, but none could strike terror into the heart as well as _he_ could, and – and if it isn’t Talon that is in charge, then Hana can only wonder. There are so few organizations with the power and wealth to pull off such a move, and even then, any organizations that would benefit from leading MEKA are fewer.

Perhaps Apple will know more, Hana thinks distantly, rubbing at her cheek and pulling back to see her fingertips stained pink. The stripes will have to be reapplied eventually; she takes some comfort in knowing that her teammates wear the same, and then she sees their faces in her mind’s eye and hugs her knees ever more tightly. So she remains, until her fingers and toes are wrinkled beyond recognition and, no doubt, 76 is starting to worry. She turns off the tap and steps out, wrapping herself in the impossibly soft white towel she’d discovered under the sink in her initial debugging search, and once she’s cinched it around her person she exits the room, intent on the pajamas awaiting her in her luggage.

Lúcio and 76 are already sitting in the living room as she swiftly walks past, speaking quietly under the drone of the holos playing the background, and Hana is entirely unsurprised to find that the pile of listening and recording devices has grown to a somewhat absurd height. Still, she finds it difficult to care about the possibility of being recorded or taped somehow, and she’s quick to pull on underwear and the pajamas and slip her feet into her bunny slippers. Her hair is shoved into a messy bun as she leaves the room, and by the time she’s grabbed a granola bar and settled herself between 76 and Lúcio on the couch, she’s ready to fall asleep. Alas, she knows as she takes a bite, there is time for sleep, and now isn’t it.

“All right, should be safe to talk now,” Lúcio says after a moment, setting down one last surveillance bug. He yawns and stretches his arms as he warns, “Might want to be careful anyway - we're not sure if it's totally secure. But we should be good for now, at least.”

“So,” 76 says, as he always does when he’s opening the floodgates for a somewhat difficult conversation; “Your handler is... going to be a problem, I’m assuming.”

She’d already relayed to the group at large what the conversation between herself, Myeong Daewi-nim, and Stray had consisted of, so she says, “Most likely. Stray will be instrumental in ensuring that she does not interfere with any plans.”

“Didn’t think the two of you were that tight,” Lúcio says, raising an eyebrow.

“They’re holding his parents as hostages, and he’s given up almost everything for you,” 76 observes.

“We’re not very good friends,” Hana says, causing Lúcio’s other eyebrow to join the first. She explains, “It is more along the lines that Stray looks to South Korea’s future, not my well-being. He views my safety – and my link with Overwatch – as the key to saving our country. It is paramount to the threat on his own family.” She smiles a self-deprecating smile. “You will find that most MEKA pilots are loyal to a fault in a similar manner. We will protect our country to the death if we must.”

“Apparently so,” Lúcio says, a tinge of respect coloring his voice. “Well, can’t say I’m not grateful, but I do worry.” He pauses, and then asks, “Don’t tell me your squad does this too - this sneaking around, getting into major trouble? The ones you’re always chatting with?”

“Oh, yeah,” Hana says with a dip of her head. “Apple is an accomplished programmer, and there are other mech pilots who routinely break through MEKA’s cybersecurity to look around. How do you think we knew about the new leadership?”

“Risky,” 76 notes as Lúcio makes a face. “Lots of trust between pilots, though. Something to be admired.”

“They are my closest friends,” Hana says, and she doesn’t realize that that is true until the words leave her lips. “For them, I would do the same.”

“You are, I think,” Lúcio says, nudging her shoulder until she turns around, and he reaches up and undoes the bun in her hair, fingers moving deftly through the strands as he splits them into three groups. “I mean, MEKA seems pretty intent on dragging you back, kicking and screaming, even though you stand the best chance of getting the help South Korea apparently needs. You’re risking a lot by being here, too.”

“Which brings us to the topic at hand,” 76 says: “How we’re going to sneak you out of here. Ana had a few ideas, so let’s hope she makes it back soon.”

“ _I can hear you through comm, you know_ ,” Ana says dryly, and Hana huffs on a laugh as 76 rolls his eyes. “ _Genji and I will be there shortly, provided the security detail actually does its job._ ”

“ _For context,_ ” Genji chimes in, “ _They have yet to disperse a group of ten teenagers loitering outside the hotel. One of the girls is armed._ ”

“Armed?” Hana asks, startled.

“ _Yes. It appears to be a water gun, but security doesn’t know that._ ”

“ _I am in the lobby and will be there soon,_ ” Ana says. “ _In the meantime, you should probably call Winston. He will likely have some thoughts on how to proceed, as well._ ”

“Affirmative. Hanzo, what’s your position?”

“ _I am perched outside the building Miss Vaswani entered, Commander,_ ” Hanzo replies, perfectly on cue. Lúcio finishes braiding Hana’s hair and curls it over her shoulder as she turns to face forward again, smiling in thanks. “ _She is in a room on the third floor with her contact. It appears they are in the midst of some kind of negotiation, though I cannot be sure from here._ ”

“Copy that. Just make sure she makes it back here safe.”

“ _Obviously. Hanzo, out._ ”

“ _He never used to be this sassy,_ ” Genji says, sounding almost wistful, and then, “ _Ah, the group has finally given up on seeing you two. I’ll be up in a minute._ ”

Ana, meanwhile, knocks on the door, and 76 hefts himself to his feet to let her in. She, like everyone else, looks tired as she steps inside, feet silent on the carpeted floor as she selects an armchair and sits, sniper rifle briefly tucked between her knees as she pulls her hood down and uncurls her braid from around her neck. “I’ve raised Winston on comm,” she says after a moment, settling her rifle next to her before drawing her knees up underneath her. “He should be calling us soon.”

“Thanks, Ana.” 76 rubs at a temple and resumes his spot next to Hana, though at this point she’s dozing on Lúcio’s shoulder and the DJ has to shake her awake, to which she grumbles and straightens up with a sigh. “So I think we’re all agreed that air travel is out.”

“Oh?” Ana says. “I was thinking it might be more secure than land.”

“MEKA probably has eyes on all flights leaving Numbani at this point,” Lúcio says, furrowing his eyebrows. “They know that Hana is going to try and make a break for it soon. Land travel is harder to pinpoint, especially when she can use the anonymity of a crowd to hide.”

“Lena has to pick up Hana’s mech, though, there’s no question about it,” 76 says, “And she can act as a decoy as such, though I imagine it’s unlikely MEKA has any way to track her mech, given how long it’s taken them to act.” Hana blows out a brief puff of air at that; combing through her mech’s runtimes and programs had taken her almost an entire day, but she remembers wrangling with the tracking package for the better part of an hour, back when she and 76 had been traveling to Gibraltar. “Regardless, a mix between land and aerial travel seems to be our best bet.”

“Once Hana’s out of Numbani, any flights are fair game and should be used, really,” Lúcio agrees. “There are also ferries. It would take longer, but it’s harder to track, so there’s that.”

“ _It would easy to plant false leads on social media, as well,_ ” Genji says. “ _The other mods and I can take care of that._ ” A moment later he’s stepping out of the bedroom, having snuck through the window again, Hana supposes, and he goes the last remaining armchair and throws himself into it so he’s lying across it sideways. “And if Jesse is coming to act as an extra gun, there is little to be worried about. He is very good at this kind of thing.”

As if on cue, the datapad sitting on the table – next to all the dismantled bugs and cameras – lights up as Winston attempts to contact them. 76 is the one to pick up the tablet and answer, and then a hologram of the gorilla projects above its surface as he replaces the datapad onto the table again, and Winston says, “ _Ana briefed me on the situation with MEKA. I suppose you’ve all had time to think of several ideas on how to proceed?_ ”

Hana tunes the conversation out as 76 begins summarizing what he and the others had just discussed, too drowsy from the day’s events, warm and comfortable under Lúcio’s arm. She knows she needs to be paying attention, but she thinks those around her will forgive her if she falls asleep early. They’ll brief her on the details regardless of what happens, but then Lúcio gives her a slight shake and she opens her eyes just in time to hear Winston say, “ _Remember, Hana, you can’t tell Stray about this, or any of your squadmates. We can’t risk MEKA knowing_.”

“Copy that,” she manages through a yawn, blearily blinking her eyes.

“ _If that’s all, then I think you’re good to turn in for the night. We’ll proceed with the concert as planned, but you, Jack, and Hanzo should be packed and ready to leave as soon as Lena touches down tomorrow, right after the concert._ ” Hana gives Winston a nod, to which the gorilla smiles. “ _Excellent. Good work, everyone. The public is much more favorable towards the repeal of the Petras Act than before, and even though Zenyatta did cast some doubt, it brought more supporters than not._ ”

“Easy,” Genji says, smug, and Winston rolls his eyes.

“ _I’m sure. Contact me or Athena if you have any problems. Good night, all of you._ ”

The call ends and leaves the room in relative quiet. Hana doesn’t quite register that she’s leaning towards the side again until Lúcio straightens her up, and then 76 says, “I’ll take first watch if you want to catch some shut-eye, Ana.”

“Let me,” Genji interjects, and at 76’s look, he explains, “I don’t need nearly as much sleep as you do, even you know that. Besides, Hanzo can take second, seeing as he’s going to be up for a while.”

“ _I am unsure as to why this meeting is taking so long, and why it is taking place so late – but yes,_ ” Hanzo says. “ _I will take second watch as necessary. I may require assistance if Miss Vaswani takes longer than three hours to finish up, however._ ”

“In which case I will go,” Genji says with a nod.

“Fine,” 76 concedes, and then he glances over at Hana and looks at Lúcio. Hana hardly notices. “Get some sleep, both of you. It’s another long day tomorrow.”

“Truer words have ne’er been spoken,” Lúcio says with a snort, and Hana makes a surprised sound when he pulls her to her feet. She follows listlessly, rubbing at her eyes as he calls over his shoulder, “Thanks, guys. See you in the morning.”

 _I need to brush my teeth_ , she thinks absently as she pads into the bedroom and collapses onto the nearest bed, burrowing under the covers and curling them up tightly around herself; and then, _oh, yeah, I was going to stream tonight, wasn’t I? Oh, well._

( _They can wait_ , D.Va whispers, and then Hana hears nothing more.)

* * *

Hana wakes up when she hears prolonged, vehement swearing.

It’s not actually too startling, if she’s being honest – she’s woken up to worse back in MEKA – but the swearing this time is in a language she doesn’t recognize right away, too blurry and unfocused is her mind. A moment later she registers it as Japanese; when she sits up, she sees Hanzo and Genji through the open door, heads almost touching as they hunch over something in Hanzo’s hands. Lúcio is already hopping out of bed, or at least he’s securing the supports for his legs and is probably going to make his way over soon enough, and Hana copies his motions, slipping from between covers and sheets to land on the floor where her bunny slippers await. She doesn’t recall taking them off, actually, but she doesn’t question it as she hurries out to the main room.

“What is happening?” she asks, and Hanzo and Genji exchange a swift glance before passing her the thing they were looking over. It’s a datapad – Satya’s personal tablet, she realizes, seeing the crisp white edges and the perfect Vishkar logo etched into the corner, and she peers at the screen with a mild sense of trepidation.

Commander:

If you are reading this, then I am likely in Vishkar custody.

I prepared this email to send if I should ever be in trouble, and it appears that this is a time where that is true. As I have mentioned previously, my reports to Vishkar have gotten increasingly vague as I settled in Overwatch ranks. This is because I have come to the realization that reporting fully on what occurs here will put numerous Overwatch agents in danger. My only conjecture is that Vishkar has realized my failings and has come to collect me for reconditioning. If that is the case, then I will likely not ever return, and if I do, you should not trust me as the person you once knew.

On the off chance that I am sent back to Overwatch, I can only suggest collecting mementos or other objects that I might find familiar. It is the only thing I can think of that might reverse reconditioning, though I have my doubts as to its effectiveness. Regardless, it would be appreciated if the attempt could be made, as it has been a pleasure to work with Overwatch, despite its quirks. Know that even if I do not remember my time here, it has been a very enjoyable experience for me, and I wish you all the best of luck in your future endeavors.

I hope that if we cross paths again, it won’t be on opposite sides.

Symmetra

“Satya,” Hana breathes, just as Lúcio peers over her shoulder. She passes the datapad to him and rounds on Hanzo and Genji, vision narrowing in on their faces as she snaps, “You were supposed to be watching over her!”

“We _did_ ,” Hanzo says. He doesn’t sound defensive; if nothing else, he sounds frustrated, likely at himself. “I spoke to her before she retired to her room, and then I returned here and took second watch. And then, when I went to wake her for third watch – this was on her bed, nothing else. Her belongings are still there, untouched.”

A glance outside shows that it’s just starting to be light out; she’s been asleep for six hours, perhaps a little more, and 76 and Ana are nowhere to be seen. Probably already out and scouting, she thinks, and she asks, “She just – disappeared?”

“ _Anija_ thinks it might have to do with the meeting late last night,” Genji says. “We have no idea who it was, but considering how long it took... perhaps it was a superior?”

“Even so, it hardly makes sense for Miss Vaswani to have a contingency email in place should she vanish,” Hanzo says; “She planned for this and did not tell us, as well. Concerning, and it also demonstrates that Vishkar is unforgiving in its actions.”

“We cannot just sit here,” Hana says, rubbing her arms as her brain tries to remember any instance of discomfort in the architech. She can’t recall anything out of ordinary – in fact, Satya had seemed remarkably at ease throughout the journey – and that makes it all the more worrying. “We have to find her! That email said ‘reconditioning’ and I do not know about you, but that really does not sound good.”

“I’m with Hana on this one,” Lúcio says, tapping rapidly at the tablet itself. “Vishkar isn’t likely to show mercy. If they have Satya, we’ve only got so much time before they do something terrible.”

“Their headquarters are in India,” Hanzo says; “We only know that Satya was taken anywhere from four hours ago to this moment. For all we know, it could be too late even if we left now.”

“Canceling the concert is also out of question,” Genji says firmly. “Your manager has been planning this tour for months, and as Winston said yesterday, it’s already done a lot for our public image.”

“I find it difficult to believe you would drop this for her, as well,” Hanzo adds, noncommittal. Lúcio shoots him a dirty look; he ignores it and goes on, “Regardless, Winston’s orders are clear. Amari and the Commander have already left to find what clues they can, and in the meantime, you two will have to remain here under guard at all times.”

“Seriously?” Lúcio says, eyes narrowing.

“Seriously,” Genji says. He raises both hands in the air when both she and Lúcio round on him. “I know, that was my reaction, too. On the flip side, Lúcio, you’ll have plenty of time to examine Satya’s tablet for any hints.”

“Did she take her arm with her?” Hana asks, suddenly remembering the blueprints that had been contained in the prosthetic and knowing that, if it fell into the wrong hands, they would have that much more to worry about.

“Naturally,” Hanzo answers, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “As it stands, there isn’t much we can do except wait for directives. With any luck, the Commander and Amari will find something to go on.”

Hana remains quiet, rubbing her hands over her arms in silence. The feeling of hopelessness – the gaping emptiness in her chest, the vertigo of an impending drop, the crushing sense of a world pushing in – is a familiar ghost, and she despises it just as much as she always has. It’s with no small sense of annoyance that she turns to retreat to her room to change. There’s no way she’ll be getting sleep like this, she knows, so she pulls on jeans and a tank top, grabbing her portable gamer setup before turning back into the living room, where Hanzo is perched by the window in the kitchenette, bow in hand, as Genji and Lúcio look over Satya’s tablet again in earnest. Lúcio’s turntables are out as he does something with the datapad, and Hana briefly sets her equipment down before continuing past them into the kitchenette.

“You could ask for room service,” Hanzo points out when she opens the fridge. As expected, the only thing in it is bottled water, and she closes it with a huff and searches through the single cupboard. There’s a box of granola to go along with the granola bars; that will do, she thinks as she grabs the former, taking one of the bowls resting alongside the box to pour it in. “Or that,” Hanzo says, inclining his head, and Hana shrugs as she replaces the box and draws the bowl close to her. The oats are vaguely sweet on her tongue; honey, she thinks, as Hanzo observes, “You seem remarkably calm about all of this.”

“I am not,” Hana replies with a shrug. The food does not settle well in her stomach, but she forges through the bowl regardless and gives Hanzo a thoughtful look. “Surely you know that this will not be the first time I have lost a comrade.”

“Perhaps,” Hanzo says, inclining his head in agreement. “That does not make it any easier, I would imagine.”

“No,” Hana says, taking another bite. It’s dry. She should probably drink water, and she sets her bowl down to fetch a bottle from the fridge. “It does not.”

Hanzo hums at that and says nothing more. Hana finishes munching and places her bowl in the sink, retreating back to her gaming equipment and deftly setting up the screen, keyboard, mouse. She might as well stream if she has nothing better to do, and she carefully positions herself so her background is a wall and there is little chance of her friends being seen. She makes sure to turn down the sensitivity of her mic before she goes live, too, to minimize the chances that her companions will be heard, and then she settles in and tries to think about nothing at all.

So it goes. The early hours of morning pass in relatively peace, as Hana quietly chats with her stream – mostly Q&A as she absently goes through some exploration-survival game – while Lúcio continues probing through Satya’s datapad and Genji eventually leaves to join 76 and Ana in their search. Hanzo remains in reach at all times, never once shifting position from where he sits at the window, out of view and facing the door, and Hana listens to comm chatter as the three out and about in Numbani eventually come to the consensus that Satya had left without putting up a fight.

“ _I suppose it seemed unlikely that she could escape,_ ” Ana observes after the clock hits eleven hours. “ _I can’t imagine her going somewhere unwillingly without some trace of a struggle._ ”

“ _It’s like she was just – plucked out of her room_ ,” Genji mutters.

“ _It’s not totally impossible_ ,” 76 says. “ _Her room isn’t nearly as heavily guarded as Hana and Lúcio’s – not to mention it was in a more discreet part of the hotel. For all we know, someone could have just pulled her out the window and made their escape._ ”

“She was on the third floor,” Hanzo chimes in. “That seems somewhat unlikely.”

“Not to mention it’s Vishkar,” Lúcio points out. “For all we know, someone could’ve constructed a teleporter and just pushed her through it. We’ve seen her do it, so why can’t others?”

“ _Still, no sign of any struggle,_ ” Ana says, as 76 grunts assent and Genji hums thoughtfully. “ _Her room is pristine – all belongings where they should be, though it does appear she had been sleeping at the time of capture. It doesn’t look like she had the opportunity to grab a change of clothes, however._ _If they went through her room, she hadn’t been expecting it._ ”

“Hardlight leaves a trail unless an architech dismantles it, right?” Hana says, briefly abandoning her stream and closing a fist around her mic to mute herself, though her other hand never ceases movement across her keyboard. “If there was a teleporter, perhaps there might be traces left.”

“Unless an architech dismantled it, given architechs seem to be the only ones who can make teleporters in the first place,” Lúcio says with a sigh. He’s yet to finish messing with Satya’s tablet, and the holographic turntables spill with text as he types quickly and easily. Hana’s not sure what exactly he’s doing as he adds, “Still, there might be some things there. Symmetra had time to grab her arm and leave us the datapad, so clearly there was time for her to do... well, I don’t know, but she must have done something.”

“ _I mean, we know where she is,_ ” Genji says. “ _That was never in doubt._ ”

“ _It’s just a matter of how far she’s gotten,_ ” 76 agrees. “ _And by all intents and purposes, she might as well already be there._ ”

“ _No one saw anyone matching her description or descriptions of Vishkar agents at the train station,_ ” Ana adds. “ _I’d check the airport, too, but I imagine it would be faster just to track flights and see if any plane has gone to India._ ”

“Where in India?” Lúcio asks, temporarily leaving the tablet alone, and Hana turns her attention back to her game. Her player character is in the process of collecting minerals from a mining operation, and the questions have begun to pile up in her chatbox; Genji is, of course, moderating, and she’s not surprised to see the questions are benign and generally easy to answer as she resumes responding to her viewers.

Ana gives the location and Lúcio pulls up another interface on his turntables. Hanzo watches with some interest as he works, and Hana checks the time; several hours until they need to be at the stadium for the concert, and with that in mind she lets out a small huff and tells some hapless viewer that her favorite color is azure blue.

It’s a few minutes later before Lúcio reports, “There was a flight that left three hours ago – private jet. Not on the public records, of course, had to do some digging. Honestly, I’m surprised Vishkar hid it so poorly.”

“ _Well, that answers that question_ ,” 76 says. “ _They took their sweet time in leaving, though – that’s, what, at the least five hours after they secured Symmetra? I wonder why.”_

“I’ll keep looking,” Lúcio says, fingers resuming their dance across his turntables. “There might’ve been something I missed.”

A few more minutes pass in relative quiet. Hana switches from her exploration game to _Starcraft_ , just one round she tells her viewers, and Lúcio hums a short, simple tune to himself, something that sounds remotely like a lullaby. Genji makes the occasional comment about things he sees – people, mostly, and what they’re doing, what they’re wearing – but it’s otherwise silent, and if it is not for the uneasiness roiling her gut, Hana might have been able to fall back asleep even as the clock ticks to thirteen hours and the sun shines gently into the kitchenette.

“Hm,” Hanzo says after a moment, just a short puff of air to draw attention. “It appears your friend Stray has decided to pay you a visit. He has just exited a taxi.”

“Just him?” Hana says.

“I cannot see your handler anywhere,” Hanzo answers, straightening up to peer more carefully through the window. “He appears to be alone.”

Lúcio and Hana exchange glances. Wordlessly, she shuts down her stream and he puts his turntables away, light fading as he pulls his hands back and makes a few gestures, and then they gather up all evidence of work and tuck it away in their shared bedroom. Hanzo makes himself scarce in the room as soon as they’ve finished, and then the two of them sit in the living room and turn the television on, hoping it looks more nonchalant than it feels.

“It’s going to look weird if the Commander isn’t here,” Lúcio says after a moment.

“ _I’m on my way back,_ ” 76 says through comm. “ _Should be there in a few minutes. Don’t bother explaining if he asks._ ”

“Roger that,” Hana says, and then, to no one in particular, “Keep an eye out for Myeong Eun Ji. She’s definitely close by.”

“ _We will be watching_ ,” Ana assures her, and Hana gets up to answer the door when Stray knocks – a rapid five-wait-three pattern from back in MEKA. It’s surprising how much she remembers, as she opens the door and gestures him in. He looks stiff and is dressed in civvies, though it’s clear by his stance and the gaunt expression to his face that he’s tense and would rather be in uniform. He doesn’t come in.

“ _I’m not supposed to be here, but I can’t risk your squad knowing about this,_ ” he says, speaking quickly and quietly. “ _That’s why I’m here in person._ ”

“The handler isn’t here,” Hana says, phrasing it like a question.

“ _Myeong Daewi-nim will have figured out where I am soon enough. It doesn’t matter._ ” He looks down, then back up at her. “ _You need to leave today._ ”

“Today?” she says, surprised.

“ _Before the concert,_ ” Stray affirms. The bags under his eyes belie his exhaustion, and he rubs at his temple briefly. “ _You don’t have much time. You don’t want to know what MEKA has planned._ ”

“ _Shibal_ ,” Hana says softly. She can only guess. “Is the _daewi_ responsible for this?”

“ _I think it’s because my handler is still in the hospital_ ,” Stray answers, and honesty makes his voice rough. “ _The fact you were able to incapacitate one of our own so easily is concerning to our superiors. It wasn’t Myeong Daewi-nim’s idea, but – she’s carrying it out because she has to. You know how it goes._ ”

“I suppose I do,” Hana says, quiet, and then she grips his shoulder and squeezes. “Thank you, Stray.”

He cracks a thin smile. “ _Don’t waste this chance, Hana,_ ” he answers, and the use of her name sends a chill up her spine; something is very wrong. “ _A lot of people have sacrificed so much to keep you alive. Make sure it’s worth it._ ”

Dread is ever-present in her chest at this point, but it grips her heart, icy and cold, as he disentangles himself from her hand and she says, “Stray – your parents – ”

“ _They’ll be fine,_ ” he says. He’s lying; he’s always been bad at it, and Hana’s hand slowly rises to cover her mouth as he begins pacing backwards down the hallway. “ _I’ve done all I can to help you. Don’t forget to return the favor._ ”

Horror freezes her in place as he turns fully and takes off down the hallway, aiming for the stairs and disappearing from her view a moment later. Lúcio is hovering at her shoulder at this point, and when she finally turns and he sees how pale her face is, his fingers rise to his ear.

“Contact Winston,” he says, watching as Hana closes the door behind her, noticing as her breaths become unsteady and how she staggers to the nearest chair to sink into its cushions; “There’ve been complications.”

* * *

[MIM]: ok so  
[MIM]: don’t freak out but  
[Stray]: I know.  
[MIM]: oh  
[MIM]: shit i’m sorry i  
[MIM]: i did everything i could but i  
[Stray]: I know.  
[Stray]: Don’t worry. I knew the risks going in.  
[Stray]: ... As did they.  
[MIM]: they’re still alive  
[Stray]: It hardly feels that way when you have to watch them get hurt.  
[Stray]: But. Yes, they are.  
[Stray]: I appreciate what you’ve done for me, MIM. Thank you.  
[MIM]: it wasn’t nearly enough  
[MIM]: fuck  
[MIM]: i’m so sorry i couldn’t do more  
[Stray]: I saw what you did with the drones.  
[Stray]: It... was unexpected. You put yourself at risk for them.  
[MIM]: yeah well  
[MIM]: nothing without a price isn’t it  
[Stray]: What?  
[takes22tango]: It’s something our squad lives by. One of our ‘creeds’, I guess.  
[D.Va]: never lose someone without extracting as high a price as you can  
[Stray]: Oh.  
[AppleCIder]: there’s a reason d.va never lost one of us, you know.  
[Stray]: I guess I know now.  
[Stray]: But, Jaewoo - you’ve done enough. I’m grateful for that. Don’t put yourself more at risk for this.  
[MIM]: let those motherfuckers come  
[MIM]: they’ve always toed the line but now they’re crossing it  
[MIM]: first threatening d.va then hurting your parents  
[MIM]: what’s next premature execution  
[takes22tango]: Imprisonment. Then that.  
[AppleCIder]: don’t worry about us, stray. we’ll help you as best as we can.  
[AppleCIder]: mim and i... we’ve handled worse.  
[Stray]: Please. You’ve done enough.  
[takes22tango]: No can do.  
[D.Va]: you’re meka, stray  
[D.Va]: for better or for worse, we’ve got your back

* * *

“ _We have to go to Siberia,_ ” Winston says. “ _But we will also send a small strike team after Satya. It’s the least we can do, and given what we’re blackmailing Vishkar with in the first place... well. We have no other choice, really._ ”

* * *

Tracer arrives just hours later, peppy and bright despite the somber blue and gray of her civvies. She makes packing and loading Hana’s gaming equipment that much quicker, blinking from the stadium’s stage to the backroom and cutting moving time in half, and then the equipment has been loaded into a transport vehicle to a lonely landing strip at the airport, and then Hana’s packing everything away, her eyes stinging and she swallows hard and pulls back a sniff, and –

“Hey, Hana,” Tracer says, and Hana straightens up to find the woman studying her, a somber expression on her face. She reaches a hand out and, with some hesitance, lays it on Hana’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay,” she says quietly, eyes intent on hers, and Hana looks down and away.

After that, the work is done in relative silence. Hana is sweating despite her flowing shirt and loose capris, muscles straining as they resume a workout she’s been skipping for the past few days, and besides the roar of airplane engines that come and go with flights, the only other sound she hears is Tracer’s absentminded humming. Lúcio is setting up for the concert while Genji and Ana keep watch; Hanzo is getting ready to leave with her and 76, and everything is going according to plan so far. It’s just –

She can’t stop seeing the haunted look on Stray’s face. The green and gray text across her screen. The implications that she alone is responsible for this, that by abandoning those back home, she’s left them to fight, to hurt – to die. _For all of our sakes, I hope you change your mind_ , Myeong Eun Ji had said, and it eats at her, gnaws at her bones that maybe she could’ve stopped this, that maybe she could’ve fixed this, that maybe she could’ve prevented all of this if she had just stayed put.

But she hadn’t.

 _Make sure that it’s worth it_ , Stray had said as he had watched those he loved bleed. He had known exactly what would happen as he rode in that taxi to her hotel, and she had – done nothing. She hadn’t even offered condolences, she had just given a wide-eyed stare as he did something she knew she would have done, had she been in his shoes. It doesn’t make that easier. It doesn’t change the fact that she is responsible for what had happened, and that she owes Stray her life. Maybe three if his mothers don’t make it, she thinks, and she doesn’t realize everything’s been packed away, including her mech, until Tracer clears her throat and says, “Let’s get you back.”

Hana nods and steps back as Tracer closes the ORCA’s cargo doors, and then she and Hana begin the trek back to the car, floating serenely some distance away. Hana takes shotgun wordlessly as Tracer starts the engine, and then they’re flying down the road, the only thing permeating the silence Hana’s own turbulent thoughts.

“You know,” Tracer says after a moment, and Hana blearily looks up to her face. The pilot is wearing a small smile, even though she doesn’t look away from the road ahead. “I know things look real bad now, but – things don’t stay that way forever, yeah?”

 _You don’t understand,_ Hana wants to say. She keeps quiet.

Tracer goes on, “I mean, it always looks like that. Trust me, I know – Slipstream made sure of that.” She laughs; it sounds fake, and Hana doesn’t press. “But then something’ll happen, and you’ll realize that – even though everything can be awful sometimes, and maybe it’s your fault, well... you’ll meet people and see good things and it’ll hit you, just like that, that there’s hope, yet.” She smiles, slightly, and it looks more genuine. “It’ll take time. Years, sometimes. But you just gotta keep moving forward, and you’ll find it, one day. People, events, things that remind you of how wonderful the world is.”

“Is that what happened to you?” Hana asks, and her voice comes out as a croak. She doesn’t bother clearing her throat.

“Not right away,” Tracer answers nonetheless. Her smiles widens, incrementally, and Hana is struck with the fact that so much of Tracer is a sunny façade; how much hurt does she hide underneath that cheer? “I mean, I have Winston. And Jesse, and Genji. And then I met Emily, my girlfriend,” she explains at Hana’s questioning noise, and then continues on, “And there’re the folks in King’s Row, and then those who try to repair the bridge between humans and omnics, and, well – I guess the point is that the more you look, the more hurt, the more _hope_ you’ll see. You just gotta be brave enough to open your eyes.”

It’s a simplistic view of a complicated matter. Hana knows that that philosophy would never work for her – she’s not inherently optimistic as Tracer is, and that won’t change in a day. But there’s a wisdom to the woman’s words, despite everything, and Hana thinks back to Tracer telling her about the Slipstream and knows that there is strength there. A coping mechanism, perhaps, and Hana draws in a deep breath.

“We are not the same,” Hana says eventually. “But I appreciate the attempt, Tracer.”

The pilot opens her mouth to respond. Over the course of a few seconds, she slowly closes it, and then she lets out a huff of laughter, self-deprecating and short. _Conceding the point_ , Hana thinks, and the remainder of the drive continues in silence.

* * *

Hana’s disguise involves jeans, a loose T-shirt, a baggy sweater, a hat to cover up the bun of hair on top of her head, and large, round sunglasses with a special bridge so they rest easily on her nose. Lúcio is well-versed with hair dye and she’s currently marveling at her dark red hair, pinching the strands between her fingers and staring at herself in the mirror. She and Jack look nothing alike, even now, but that will likely not cause problems, with their fake IDs having matching family names.

“Your train leaves in half an hour,” Ana says, tapping away at a tablet. Not Satya’s; one that came along with them, Hana thinks. “Best make your way over now. You have your cover story down?”

“Came to see Lúcio’s concert and now we’re on the next part of our tour of Europe,” Hana recites before anyone else can. “This is my dad’s birthday gift to me, and my cousin was dragged along because he worked too hard and had extra vacation days. We’re meeting a family friend at the train station who lives in Spain and came to pick us up, since we’re going there next.”

“And your names are?”

“Paul Nakauchi,” Hanzo says.

“Charlet Tatasciore,” Hana adds, fumbling the name in her mouth and grimacing because of it. She looks over at 76 and finishes, “And my dad, Fred.”

“ _Matt Mercer,_ ” McCree says through comm. “ _Speakin’ of which, you should probably make your way down soon. It’s gettin’ pretty busy._ ”

“This is ridiculous,” 76 says with the barest of smiles. Like Hana and Hanzo, he’s been reduced to civvies, gun hidden inside a special case, which is in turn inside a suitcase. Hanzo’s bow has been placed into its own container, specially made to hold it, and Hana – well, she has to go unarmed, for the moment. Her gun is with 76’s, at any rate, though her MEKA recall device is in her shoe, as before. She hopes she won’t have to use it.

“You look good, _anija_ ,” Genji says approvingly, and Hanzo shrugs, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. His younger brother had forced him into skinny jeans and a T-shirt tucked under a dark sweater. Both he and Hana had tried to convince him to give an undercut a shot, but Hanzo had refused, citing something about _never again_.

“It brings back memories,” Hanzo says presently with a small smile, though he doesn’t elaborate.

“Jesse,” Ana says, “Are you still dressed like a cowboy?”

“ _... No? Have some faith, ma’am._ ”

“You wore your cowboy getup to a holiday party once, Jesse. Forgive us if we’re doubtful.”

“ _Okay, one, I was young and stupid, and two, I made twenty bucks off of a bet for that, so. Fuck you, Jack, basically._ _And hurry up, clock’s a-tickin’._ ”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re moving.” 76 gestures them on, and Hana gives Lúcio a quick hug and waves at Ana before following him out of the hotel room, dragging her sunny, pale yellow suitcase behind her. Tracer is long gone, due to return before the concert starts to act as another pair of eyes, and for now Hana, 76 and Hanzo breeze past the front desk without so much as a second glance. It’s liberating to be able to walk about and not be recognized, hiding beneath a hat and some hasty makeup to shape and contour her face, and Hanzo takes the spot next to her while 76 goes shotgun after he hails a taxi.

“The train station, please,” he says, and he’s adopted, somehow, a tinge of an accent – she can’t quite pinpoint from which country, but it’s there, and she wonders if she should make an effort at copying it even though she knows she can’t. Then they’re off, car speeding silently along the road as 76 engages their driver in easy conversation, and she closes her eyes. The weight hasn’t left her shoulders; she can still see Stray’s face in her mind’s eye, and she can only guess at what Myeong Daewi-nim was hinting at in their brief repartee. Satya or Siberia, Winston had said. Two choices. One path. Not enough time.

But she can do this, she thinks. _I can do this._ ( _You can do this_ , D.Va whispers.) So she sits back, pastes a smile on her face, and looks out the window, and she breathes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **PLEASE READ**  
>  so here's the deal, fam: hana will either pursue satya or she will go to siberia. pick your side, tell me in the comments, and where hana goes will change the storyline in different ways. keep in mind, we are slowly closing in on endgame - not yet, not in the near future either - but this gets the ball rolling on the plot of tdlh itself. thus: _choose wisely_.
> 
> ... and with that, HELLO FRIENDS. there is no happiness in hana's life. not yet, at least.
> 
> and now that that's out of the way SO HOW ABOUT THAT HOLIDAY COMIC AMIRITE. so much lore. so much info about other characters. and of course [lena is gay](http://thebirdwitch.tumblr.com/post/154829656509/breakdances) so that's huge. EMILY WILL BE MAKING AN APPEARANCE IN TDLH EVENTUALLY. NOT SURE WHEN, NOT SURE HOW, BUT SHE WILL - AND SHE WILL LIVE, AND SHE AND TRACER WILL BE HAPPY.
> 
> ok now that _that's_ out of the way - yes. the voice actors are their fake identities. @euxiom and liveblogging crew _this is what i meant_. it was my beta reader rogue's idea, and it is brilliant and i love it.
> 
> and now that that is also out of the way - howdy! been a hot month since i last updated, haha. that would be because college was ramping up as midterms and finals came along, and now i am finally free! [cue raining confetti] i hope you all have a wonderful holiday season, whatever it is you celebrate, and that you have a restful, happy break from school, work, and stress in general. you all deserve it! c:
> 
> no headcanons this week because getting this monster of a chapter written, edited, and beta'd (kinda) took its toll. my apologies! see you next week! (for real this time!)


	68. always take the scenic route

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana and co. return to Gibraltar, ft. _so many chatlogs_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many thanks to roguevector for beta-ing and walking me through the military aspects of this kind of battle and holy hell, i know nothing about military, lemme tell you all. getting a beta reader who knows military stuff is _super_ useful for fics like this. fact.
> 
> many thanks to costumebleh for being the best! and also beta-ing and just being helpful and nice and awesome. <333
> 
> with that said, have a delightful day today!

McCree is loitering by the train itself by the time she, 76, and Hanzo roll up. He hadn’t been lying, at least; he’s lost not only the serape but also the hat, though he’s wearing red flannel and jeans to complete the look. Hana isn’t about to question his tastes, and it looks fine on him, so she sees little reason to pick at it.

This means, of course, that Hanzo takes one look and says with a dismissive sniff, “You could have at least worn a polo.”

“Since when were you the fashion expert?” McCree shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. The skull on his prosthetic has been expertly covered by some kind of material – at the moment, the entire arm looks like exceedingly shiny chrome, brand new and largely harmless. Dr. Ziegler’s doing, no doubt. “’Sides, this is comfortable.”

“Nothing’s changed, I see,” 76 says, and Hana isn’t sure if it’s part of the façade or just a frank observation. His hand goes to her shoulder and he says, “Let’s go on in. Matt, did you find our seats?”

“I mean, I found mine. Once you show your ticket to the guy in charge, I’ll wave you over.”

From there it’s a short journey to the conductor, who checks their ID, taps something on her interface, and then sends them off down the line of cars. As promised, McCree lifts a hand when they arrive at the designated area, and Hana sees that they had been assigned two sets of chairs facing each other with a thin table separating them. On the table lies a deck of cards – McCree’s, she supposes – but other than that, it’s loud and busy and there’s arguing and laughter and talk all over the place. She’s a little overwhelmed as they approached, and she takes some comfort in the Overwatch people she’s begun to think of as something like a family.

And, with that in mind and also a bit out of pity, Hana takes the spot next to Hanzo. She ignores how both he and Hanzo shoot her grateful glances, and makes a note to tell Genji that maybe he should give up on getting his friends to be friends with his brother.

“We’ll have to get off after a bit and get on a ferry,” McCree says as they settle in, “But it shouldn’t take us longer than five hours to get where we need t’be, overall.” 76 nods and settles back into his seat, bag on his lap, while Hanzo tucks his bow in the overhead storage area. McCree takes the time to lean his head on a hand and look over at Hana. “So, how’ve you been, Charlet? Been a while since we’ve seen each other.”

“I am pretty tired,” Hana admits, and she’s so used to hiding inside herself that the it’s hilariously easy to be opaque with her answers. “The concert was very exciting, but also stressful, in a sense. There was so much going on.”

“Wasn’t a disappointment, was it?”

“Of course not,” Hana replies with a sly grin. “I caught up with a few friends. It has been some time since I saw them last.”

McCree hums and props his chin on his hand. “They doin’ all right?”

Hana’s smile fades slightly, though she keeps it on her face. “Things have been better.”

“I can imagine,” McCree replies, seeing as he’s been completely briefed on the situation and knows exactly what Hana is referring to. “Good thing you’re goin’ home after all this, then. It’ll be nice to get some rest.”

 _Home_ , Hana thinks. _Overwatch is not home._ ( _But the people are,_ D.Va whispers, and Hana narrows her eyes behind her glasses.)

“For a bit, at least,” Hanzo says, rubbing a hand against his forehead. “We’ll be on the move soon enough.”

No one says anything to that. There’s not much _to_ say, what with Siberia hanging over their heads, though a glance over at Hanzo suggests he’s more worried about Satya. Hana nudges his foot with hers under the table, and the glance he spares her, though brief, is grateful, and with that she reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. 76 has already settled in for a nap, and McCree is looking out the window, eyes unfocused and glazed over, so she figures she won’t be missing much.

[AppleCIder]: that's why we don't touch things we don’t know anything about.  
[MIM]: look i wasn't _aware_ that it was youngblood's  
[takes22tango]: Youngblood is the only person on our squad who uses tampons, mim. You know that.  
[MIM]: ... ok point  
[MIM]: but it was just sitting on the floor! i thought i was doing everyone a favor by throwing it away  
[AppleCIder]: probably you would've in any other circumstance, but it was clearly unused.  
[MIM]: graah just leave me alone god  
[D.Va]: wait what  
[takes22tango]: Oh, hey, D.Va!  
[D.Va]: hey tango. what happened??  
[takes22tango]: Nothing much. The DMZ has been fairly quiet for the past few days.  
[AppleCIder]: well, there was that scuffle a few hours ago when they changed the guards on the other side.  
[AppleCIder]: not any of our faults, obviously.  
[D.Va]: that's good  
[D.Va]: last thing we want to do is provoke them  
[MIM]: yep  
[MIM]: either way we're playing it safe. it's only a matter of time before we're swapped out to go to siberia  
[MIM]: in the words of myeong daewi-nim, "your talents are being wasted here"  
[AppleCIder]: like we needed more confirmation that our only skills are killing and cracking jokes.  
[D.Va]: and surviving  
[AppleCIder]: i suppose.  
[D.Va]: you still haven’t answered what happened before that tango  
[takes22tango]: Oh, the tampon thing.  
[takes22tango]: Yeah, a tampon dropped out of Youngblood’s bag and mim threw it away. Then Youngblood got pissed because that was one of her last tampons, so.  
[AppleCIder]: moon cups. that’s all i’m saying.  
[takes22tango]: Right.  
[MIM]: anyway she got mad and i got the brunt end of the stick and yep  
[D.Va]: that’s not an expression  
[MIM]: shush  
[takes22tango]: Say, D.Va, you'll be joining us in Siberia, right?  
[takes22tango]: Or at least, I've heard Overwatch will be deployed there soon. So you'll be going too, won't you?  
[D.Va]: actually it depends on what my superior officers decide  
[D.Va]: we're being spread out across numerous missions i mean  
[D.Va]: most of us will be going to siberia though so i'll probably see you all there  
[MIM]: (✧Д✧)  
[MIM]: YES!! NO MORE YOUNGBLOOD!! WOOOOO!!  
[takes22tango]: mim!! she’s not that bad!  
[AppleCIder]: she totally is.  
[AppleCIder]: also? damn. that's the best thing i've heard today actually ㅋㅋㅋ  
[D.Va]: i mean i might still be assigned somewhere else  
[D.Va]: but it'd be great to see you all again!  
[MIM]: well you already know how we feel about it ㆆㅿㆆ  
[takes22tango]: Is no one worried about what we'll be doing in Siberia?  
[AppleCIder]: not really.  
[AppleCIder]: everything kinda pales in comparison to the giant omnic, so.  
[takes22tango]: Still.  
[MIM]: i mean what we're going up against more omnics right  
[MIM]: little ones though. easy peasy.  
[D.Va]: the omnium there has reactivated. there's no telling what kind of omnics will be there  
[AppleCIder]: you think there'll be bastion units??  
[takes22tango]: I hope not.  
[AppleCIder]: man, when’s the last time any MEKA unit took up a defense matrix against one of those?  
[MIM]: all of us can do it  
[MIM]: probably  
[AppleCIder]: exactly.  
[takes22tango]: Why am I always the voice of reason? Back me up, D.Va.  
[D.Va]: speaking from personal experience, it's totally possible and not hard to counter a bastion unit with the defense matrix  
[takes22tango]: Personal experience?!  
[AppleCIder]: hot _damn_.  
[MIM]: yet another story you need to tell us when we see you next  
[D.Va]: the rate of fire is insane, though. only one person i know who can shoot faster and that's tracer  
[AppleCIder]: tracer!!  
[takes22tango]: Did you have everyone in Overwatch try to hit you or something?  
[D.Va]: ... maybe  
[takes22tango]: Way to set a bad example!  
[D.Va]: aww don't be like that tango i had to prove myself to the team  
[takes22tango]: I get that, but what do you think Apple and mim are going to do now??  
[MIM]: IT'S ON BITCHES  
[MIM]: EVEN IF WE DON’T HAVE ANYTHING *CLOSE* TO D.VA’S APM  
[AppleCIder]: is tracer coming to siberia?? can we test this hypothesis??  
[takes22tango]: What hypothesis?  
[AppleCIder]: we all want to be just as good as d.va and that means successfully countering the same things d.va has.  
[AppleCIder]: thus: we all need to be shot by tracer.  
[MIM]: and honestly who would complain  
[takes22tango]: to being shot??  
[MIM]: to being shot by _tracer_ very important distinction tango  
[D.Va]: she's taken before you ask  
[MIM]: no surprise there  
[AppleCIder]: lucky guy.  
[D.Va]: gal actually  
[AppleCIder]: guy is totally gender-neutral. you can fight me on this.  
[takes22tango]: No fighting! We'll have enough of that in Siberia. (Also, seconded.)  
[AppleCIder]: we're not even sure when we're going, tango. let us have this.  
[takes22tango]: Warring against each other? I don't think so.  
[takes22tango]: We do that enough with Youngblood.  
[AppleCIder]: ha! they admitted it!  
[MIM]: ◕ ‿ ◕  
[takes22tango]: You are all insufferable.  
[takes22tango]: Wait, D.Va, weren't you doing a concert thing with Lucio? I just remembered.  
[takes22tango]: Why are you going to Siberia if you're doing that instead?  
[D.Va]: oh right  
[D.Va]: well you know how meka just kinda. screwed stray and me over right  
[AppleCIder]: oh shit.  
[MIM]: are you running for it before they drag you back by your hair kicking and screaming?  
[D.Va]: yep  
[AppleCIder]: you only managed to stay for one concert, huh.  
[takes22tango]: Better than none at all, I suppose.  
[MIM]: lucio can handle it  
[MIM]: he is after all god's gift to humanity  
[D.Va]: and i repeat you're not even religious mim  
[MIM]: even you can't deny his awesomeness d.va  
[D.Va]: true  
[takes22tango]: Too bad we won't get to meet him.  
[AppleCIder]: we'll be meeting almost everyone else on overwatch's roster in the meantime though.  
[D.Va]: not everyone but mostly yeah  
[MIM]: get hyped!  
[MIM]: of course something terrible will happen and we'll probably all die but _so it goes_  
[takes22tango]: Sunshine and optimism, mim. Sunshine and optimism.  
[AppleCIder]: ha! you know it.  
[MIM]: i resent that  
[D.Va]: you resent everything that doesn't benefit you directly  
[MIM]: ok 1, ouch and 2, true

“Hey, Paul, take a look at this.”

Hana looks up from her phone when McCree passes over a datapad. 76 has one eye cracked open in interest as Hanzo peers at the screen, eyebrows furrowing before he hands it over to the commander. “Seems their reign of terror never ends,” Hanzo observes, and then, “I am unsure as to why you think this terribly significant, at least to me.”

“You’re part of the family,” McCree says with a shrug. “Even if some of us don’t necessarily agree with it, it’s true. So you know what we know, whether you like it or not.”

“Noted,” Hanzo says, and then, “Thoughts, uncle?”

If 76 is bothered by Hanzo’s choice of honorific – technically accurate, given their chosen cover story, though slightly odd given the age gap between Hanzo and Hana – it doesn’t show on his face. “Harold probably already knows about it,” 76 says, using Winston’s code name and flicking through the datapad’s contents. The screen is opaque, so Hana can’t see what it is the men are talking about. “Still, couldn’t hurt to check. Charlet, can I leave that up to you?”

“Depends on what it is,” Hana says, taking the datapad when 76 places it flat on the table and pushes it towards her. Her phone continues to buzz with the chatlog’s conversation as she swipes up to the beginning of the article proper.

The top of the page has a blurry, silent video – clearly taken from security camera footage, grainy and monochrome – showing an explosion and two figures on a short, fifteen second loop. One of the figures is making a face at the camera; the other remains expressionless behind the gas mask, and when Hana looks closely at the harness on Junkrat’s chest, she can’t locate the Talon emblem. Perhaps it had been burned off, or placed elsewhere. Meanwhile, Roadhog is fearsome enough with his hook and chain, which he holds in his hand as if it’s a toy, not a dangerous weapon. No Talon paraphernalia on him either, she notices.

They’d broken into a vault of some kind in – India, says the article, though she notices with some surprise that it doesn’t once state what exactly was stolen. Hana skims through the article as 76 and McCree discuss quietly, and then she places the datapad flat on the table and looks to where Hanzo is studying the passing countryside with focused intensity.

“Vishkar,” she says in a low voice, and Hanzo gives her an almost imperceptible nod; his guess as well, it seems.

“I have to wonder if she’s involved somehow,” he says, just as quiet. It’s hardly a mental leap to know he’s speaking of Satya, and Hana wonders the same herself. It’s doubtful, given that Junkrat and Roadhog are essentially mercenaries-for-hire, but the timing is curious. She’ll take whatever hope she can for Satya, especially given the circumstances.

“It’s unlikely,” 76 says, as if on cue, because of course he’s overheard their conversation. _Pessimistic as always_ , Hana thinks, as he goes on, “Still, it’s worrying. Just how many places can they break into without being caught?”

“Explosives are pretty dramatic,” McCree drawls. “When’s the last time anyone had to come up with a countermeasure for those, straight up? Nowadays it’s mostly the tech we gotta worry about.” He shakes his head and draws the datapad close to him. “I’ll send this Harold’s way. It’ll take just a sec.”

[ Stray has entered 밈시티 ]

[AppleCIder]: fuck the police. not that that’s anything new.  
[MIM]: heeeey look who it is  
[Stray]: Hi.  
[takes22tango]: I thought you’d be offline for longer. Is everything all right?  
[Stray]: Relatively, I guess.  
[Stray]: Good news: MEKA thought I did ‘well enough’ in Numbani, so I’m being sent to Siberia.  
[AppleCIder]: ‘well enough’. pft. after they follow through with their threats, right.  
[Stray]: Correct.  
[Stray]: Bad news: they're giving me command of the platoon, not just my squad.  
[MIM]: uhhhhhh  
[takes22tango]: ... Well then. Did you get a pay raise, at least?  
[Stray]: Nope.  
[takes22tango]: Figures.  
[D.Va]: you think you’re ready for that kind of responsibility?  
[Stray]: How the fuck should I know? I’ve never done it before.  
[Stray]: D.Va, _please_ tell me you’re coming to Siberia. With you in charge, we can minimize losses.  
[takes22tango]: Surely it won’t be that bad, Stray.  
[Stray]: Sure, but what if it is?  
[Stray]: I’m not going to take that risk if I can help it.  
[AppleCIder]: not to be rude, but yeah, i agree. d.va has experience with command, and that’s what we need.  
[MIM]: well d.va all the more reason to yell at overwatch until you can go to siberia  
[D.Va]: guess so  
[D.Va]: i’ll let them know about the situation. if it’s this dire then there’s no reason why i should be assigned somewhere else  
[MIM]: (ಠ_ಠ) good  
[takes22tango]: At least we have one thing to look forward to.  
[Stray]: Don’t delay, if you can.  
[Stray]: The situation in Siberia is far worse than they’ve been telling us.  
[D.Va]: duly noted

 _Vishkar, the junkers, and Satya_ , Hana mulls, _or MEKA, her squadmates, and Siberia_. Winston had been skimming over the whole thing in Siberia for a while, she knows, meaning that Stray’s words carry a weight she can’t yet fathom. She’s not in a place where she can ask 76 freely about the missions, though, so instead she sets the questions aside for later and lifts a hand to touch the deck of cards on the table.

“Old set,” McCree says, noticing her reach. He watches with a soft smile as she unfolds the flap on the box and lets the cards slip into her waiting fingers. “Almost as old as me. Got ‘em back when I was young.”

“How young?”

“Ten, eleven. Present from my dad, wouldn’t you know it. His old set, the one he’d gotten a few years before I was born.” Hana has never bothered learning how to shuffle cards, but that doesn’t mean she can’t examine them, carefully respectful of their age. The decoration on the back is a complicated pattern of fractals, navy blue against white, and the face cards are strange artistic renderings of the monarchs they proclaim. They are very, _very_ different from the antique Korean playing cards her father had been interested in, and they’re in surprisingly good shape, all things considered. “Don’t suppose you ever played poker back home?”

“No,” Hana says, mindful of her words as she says, “There was never any time. Besides, I always preferred playing video games.”

“You’ve played an electronic version, I’m sure.”

“Maybe?” Hana says, and she peers at him as she says, slowly, “I am more into e-sports than other games, Matt.”

“Unbelievable,” McCree says, disbelief giving his voice an almost husky twinge. “All that time doin’ what you did, and you never once tried gamblin’?”

“We gambled with higher stakes every day,” Hana points out, eyebrows raised. “Cards were, quite honestly, the last thing on my mind.”

Hanzo says something in Japanese, in a tone that Hana interprets as amused, before he says scornfully, “Perhaps we can play something other than poker, Matt.”

“I’m sure you’ve got a much better idea, Paul,” McCree responds snappishly. Hana watches them and resists the urge to text Genji; she doubts it would help, though the cyborg would do his best to assist regardless.

“Might I suggest asking Charlet for a game she knows how to play?”

“No ideas, eh? Figured as much.”

“Was that suggestion not idea enough? Your skills of observation have yet to improve, I see.”

“Now see here, _pendejo_ – ”

“I can play hearts,” Hana declares, glaring first as Hanzo, then at McCree. She had, inadvertently, used her commander voice, the one she used to employ back into when she occasionally found herself as leader of multiple squads in MEKA; to her surprise, it works, and the both of them stop talking. “We need four players for optimal playing, but it is not very complicated.”

There’s a pause. Then: “Why do you know hearts but not poker?” McCree asks, and Hana gives a minute shake of her head; that’s not something she can explain without breaking her cover, as the answer involves a charity stream, a large monetary donation, and a few viewers insisting she learn how directly proceeding said donation. “Fine, teach us, then. I dunno how to play.”

“I have never heard of it,” Hanzo agrees.

“Dad,” Hana says, and 76 opens one eye, then both and he sits up when he sees the cards in her hands. “Play cards with us.”

“Hearts. I heard,” he replies. “Been ages since I last played. Gonna need a refresher. Can you shuffle?”

“Not well.” Because her fingers still sting sometimes, first, but second, she’s never been good at it.

“Let me,” Hanzo says, and Hana slides the cards over to him.

[MIM]: that doesn’t sound good  
[MIM]: @D.Va you still there?  
[D.Va]: sorry distracted  
[D.Va]: what happened?  
[Stray]: We just got news about the Boss.  
[Stray]: It’s... a bit odd. To say the least.  
[takes22tango]: The Boss just showed up today. No warning, no reason for departure, no reason for their return. And, for all intents and purposes, no worse for wear.  
[MIM]: and we have no idea where they went  
[MIM]: so far anyway  
[MIM]: apple’s busy doing her thing as we speak  
[D.Va]: are you sure she’ll be safe doing that?  
[takes22tango]: We’re supposed to be asleep. Now’s as good a time as any.  
[Stray]: Most of the handlers and soldiers are occupied with the Boss’s return, at any rate. They probably won’t notice her poking around.  
[MIM]: and i don’t think the Boss is gonna be happy with the changes that had taken place in their absence  
[MIM]: in terms of meka infrastructure i mean  
[takes22tango]: You think?  
[Stray]: I’m somewhat doubtful myself.  
[D.Va]: who can say what exactly the boss will do?  
[D.Va]: they’ve always been something of a wildcard at any rate. if the news is accurate, at least  
[takes22tango]: And public opinion is highly variable. Sometimes it feels like it honestly depends on which way the wind is blowing.  
[MIM]: hopefully they won’t do anything crazy once they’ve been checked out  
[Stray]: You’ve jinxed it.

[  AppleCIder has reentered 밈시티 ]

[AppleCIder]: yes.  
[AppleCIder]: yes, you certainly have.

“You done with your phone yet, Charlet? We’re waitin’ on you.”

She doesn’t answer right away, slowly looking up from her phone to fix McCree with an expression she thinks passes as _stricken._ At any rate, his eyebrows goes up and he glances over at Hanzo, who is watching her in turn.

“Is everything alright?” 76 asks, studying her intently.

“With luck,” Hana says, quickly typing out an apology and a farewell and tucking her phone away. She picks up her cards and fans them in her fingers, looking at them without actually seeing. “A few friends were discussing a new development back home. I will check back on them later.”

“If you’re sure,” 76 says, and then, “So, quick refresher on the rules, if you don’t mind?”

Hana nods, gathering her thoughts and her scattered composure. When she speaks, her voice is steady and clear, but her mind is elsewhere.

( _Who is Amélie Lacroix?_ D.Va asks, and maybe someday Hana will be brave enough to ask.)

* * *

The train ride becomes a taxi ride to a ferry, and on the ferry, Hana’s falling asleep against 76’s shoulder and Hanzo and McCree have come to an uneasy truce that involves minimal and painfully awkward small talk. Her dreams are restless, bloody, and short; more than once she startles awake, adrenaline pumping, before dropping off to sleep again after a few minutes, each time reassured by the warmth at her side and the watchful eyes of the men across from her.

( _This is your family now,_ D.Va whispers. _A family, at least._ )

It’s after maybe the eighth time she wakes up after a nightmare that she decides that it isn’t worth the effort. The sleeping pills Dr. Ziegler had prescribed are in her bag, but she’s hesitant to use them – they might make the dreams worse – so instead she sits up and peers out the window. It’s dark out, though she can still see the waves of the sea below; the ferry is large enough that the spray doesn’t reach her window, but not so far that it’s just black darkness below.

“Check your phone,” McCree says, noticing that she’s awake. He misses very little, she’s found, as he explains, “It’s been buzzin’ nonstop for the past hour or so. You ever put that thing on silent?”

 _Used to_ , she almost says, but bites her tongue and keeps it in before it escapes. She doesn’t want to tell the story behind that, not yet, and instead she shrugs and pulls out her phone. To her surprise, it’s not the chatroom with her MEKA squad that’s blowing up; it’s the general chat over all MEKA pilots, one that usually remains entirely silent given how insular each individual squad is.

[CaerBaer]: This is uncalled for and tactically stupid. What are they thinking??  
[ΩMEGA]: does anyone know what the FUCK is going on with the boss right now?  
[tlaloques]: couldn’t they have at least given us winter coats for this shit  
[cr01ss4nt]: ok pro tip just listen to what the russians tell you and do as they say, they actually have a plan  
[EVIE]: I’m not losing another squad member for this  
[Primality]: I’m still alive just on foot, thank god my bodysuit is dark blue  
[ΩMEGA]: where the hell is d.va when we need her??  
[CaerBaer]: She left us for Overwatch, dumbass.  
[tlaloques]: why aren’t the handlers doing anything about this?? they can see that the boss is totally inept at leading, can’t they  
[ΩMEGA]: WHY ARE THEY HAVING THE SCOUTS LEAD THE CHARGE?? WHY ARE WE CHARGING??  
[EVIE]: Careful on the second east entrance, there’s about ten shotgunners picking us off one by one  
[Primality]: the boss is only leading until stray gets here, then we should be fine  
[EVIE]: Anyone is better than the boss at this point  
[ΩMEGA]: don’t fly over the omnium’s direct west side they have fucking anti-aircraft guns or w/e they’re called  
[cr01ss4nt]: SHIT I’M GOING DOWN IT WAS NICE KNOWING YOU  
[Primality]: JOIN THE CLUB I’M ON FOOT NEAR THE OMNIUM, WHAT’S YOUR LOCATION AND I’LL TRY TO FIND YOU

Hana switches over to her MEKA squad’s chat a few moments later as the never-ending text continues. She knows that one of her own will be able to explain what’s going on.

[D.Va]: can someone sum up why everyone is freaking out in general chat  
[D.Va]: ... something that hasn’t happened in over two years might i add  
[AppleCIder]: oh hey d.va.  
[takes22tango]: Fortunately for us, we’re not in Siberia.  
[MIM]: unfortunately for everyone else they are  
[D.Va]: meaning?  
[Stray]: The Boss has taken command of all MEKA forces in Siberia.  
[Stray]: I think their intentions are good, but they are piss-poor at coordinating the squads.  
[AppleCIder]: which doesn’t make sense because the boss is a tactical genius. wherever they went in the past few weeks, something’s changed.  
[MIM]: not naming names but _talon_ (ಠ_ಠ)  
[D.Va]: holy shit  
[Stray]: I’m not due to arrive for another few hours.  
[Stray]: Until then, there’s no telling how much damage the Boss might do.  
[D.Va]: i’m gonna tell overwatch this rn hold on  
[takes22tango]: Please hurry, D.Va.

“Dad,” Hana says, nudging her elbow against 76’s arm. He doesn’t startle awake like she might have expected; instead his eyes merely blink open, and then he is perfectly aware of his surroundings and looking down at her, a question in his expression. “I need to talk to Harold.”

“Now?” he says. “We’re only a few hours out.”

“It’s important,” Hana says, and the desperation bleeds into her voice. She has the inexplicable urge to paint her battle stripes onto her face, and remembers a moment later that the combination of dread and adrenaline in her system is what she always feels before a battle. Her body is ready to fight, even if her mind hasn’t quite gotten there. “I mentioned that my friends’ new development earlier?”

“Yes.”

“Right, well. It has gotten a bit more extreme.”

76 studies her for a bit longer, but he knows her well enough to realize she wouldn’t require Winston’s attention unless the situation truly called for it. As such, he turns to McCree and says, “Matt?”

“Datapad’s not secure,” McCree says with a shake of his head, and then he adds, “Probably got less than an hour until we arrive, though,” and Hanzo, seated some distance from him, nods in agreement. He’s been murmuring in Japanese for a while now, ever since Hana woke up; she’s pretty sure he’s speaking with his brother, though it sounds fairly urgent given Hanzo’s tone. She wonders how Lúcio is doing. “After a train ride, of course. Whatever the situation is, we’ll be able to help ya out soon.”

“How reassuring,” Hana says, a little dry. McCree merely shrugs, sending her an apologetic look, and she leans back against 76’s shoulder. Her heart thumps in her chest, and she doesn’t say what she wants to say – _people are fighting for their lives as we sit here._ She doesn’t dare say anything about MEKA as she moves her sunhat from her lap to the spot next to her, for she has yet to be recognized, likely aided by the faux hair color and sunglasses, but she’s not risking anything if she can help it. It’s with one last, cautious glance around that she settles in, not to sleep but to doze, to hopefully keep her mind occupied and away from the worry thrumming in her bones.

Eventually she’s roused to walk off of the ferry and onto another train, this time coherent enough to register the nice weather and darkening sky, and it’s a little under thirty minutes before they’re raising Winston for a boat of some kind to get to the base itself. It arrives in the form of a strangely merry Tracer at the helm of a speedboat, and Hana has no idea what to expect as she steps in and Tracer declares, “Last one there’s a rotten egg!”

“We’re all in the same place, Lena,” McCree says, and then they’re off, and Hana pushes her way forward to stand behind Tracer’s chair because she has never done anything like this – ocean spray against her face, the boat bouncing and jerking against the waves, wind pulling insistently at her hair and pulling it out of its bun as she holds onto her hat and laughs. She’s had to skim across water in her mech before, obviously, but _out_ of mech, no, and it’s amazing how speed can make anything more exciting.

(It’s amazing how it takes her mind off of things, if she’s being honest. _A brief reprieve from the storm_ , D.Va murmurs, and Hana is inclined to agree.)

The ride is over far too soon, though Tracer promises to take Hana out “for a spin” more often, even going so far as assuring her that she would to teach her how to drive the boat, and then they’re being shuffled off to the conference room. Which is fine, Hana thinks, because she has a lot to talk about, though she’d like to get some sleep before being shipped out. Winston looks even more grave than usual as the five of them slip into their seats.

“I’ve been informed that Hana has news,” Winston says, nodding once at her. McCree’s doing, no doubt, and Hana purses her lips.

“Yes,” Hana says. “It concerns MEKA and Siberia, primarily. There are three items.” She hesitates, then asks, “Do you want the short version or the long version?”

“Short, unfortunately,” Winston says, and that’s when she notices that he’s dressed in full armor, Tesla cannon strapped to his back. If even their leader was going out into the field... _shit_ , she thinks, uneasy, and 76 nudges her foot with his. “We don’t have much time.”

“Of course,” Hana says with a nod back to him. “First, MEKA’s leader has returned, though we do not know from where or how it transpired.”

“You’re makin’ it sound like that’s a bad thing,” McCree says, long and measured.

“Second,” Hana says, grimacing in McCree’s general direction because he’s right, “They have taken command of the MEKA units stationed in Siberia. This would be fine, except they are doing an uncharacteristically poor job of it. No one knows why.”

“Nothing is ever easy,” Winston says with a sigh. He doesn’t get paid enough for this, Hana knows; that is, if he gets paid at all. “What’s the last item?”

“It is good news,” Hana promises, and then explains, “Stray will be arriving in Siberia in the next few hours and will take over leadership, whether or not the Boss agrees. Further, my squad will be sent there as well. Their experience should likely be of some help.”

“‘Experience’?” Hanzo asks, one eyebrow quirked.

“They are some of the longest-surviving MEKA pilots,” Hana replies, succinct and brief. “They have been around since the program’s beginning. Essentially, we are the vets.”

Hanzo doesn’t say anything to that; from the expression on his face, it looks like he thinks he may have inadvertently overstepped a line. Hana doesn’t mind, though – it’s just another fact of who she is, both as a person and a soldier – and she gives him an almost unnoticeable shake of her head, to which he nods.

“I’d been wondering why the Russian response hasn’t been more successful with MEKA backing them,” Winston muses presently. “The omnium is churning out mostly bastion units – practically what MEKAs are built to counter, I’ve recently learned. There are a number of omnic technicians as well, including a few snipers, but those are manageable with regular soldiers.” He sighs. “Unfortunately, Russian forces can’t do any real damage until they breach the omnium itself, and any advantage MEKA might bring has been lost due to clumsy leadership.”

“Stray will be out there soon, as I said,” Hana says, one hand reaching for her phone, the other crossing its fingers. “Hopefully that will help.”

“He doesn’t have command experience, correct?” Winston says. “I think I remember that being mentioned somewhere.”

Probably in Hana’s written reports; she’s surprised Winston managed to read through them, as she often gets frustrated halfway through and switches to Korean. Whatever the case, she clarifies, “No _combat_ leadership experience. It would be best if I went out there as well; I can best coordinate the MEKA forces present, and they will listen to me.”

“Understood,” Winston says. “There are a few things I’d like to talk about before we disperse, however. I’m sure you’ve noticed most of the base is empty.”

“Most everyone’s been sent out to Siberia, isn’t it?” McCree says. “Lena pinged me as much, at least.”

“Right,” Winston says with a nod. “And I’m sure you’re aware of the strike team we’re sending out after Satya.”

Hanzo’s eyes widen incrementally before his face settles back into an unreadable frown. 76 merely nods – he’s taken the colored contacts out in favor of his visor again, though his hair is still brown and there is still makeup to hide his scars. It’s McCree who curls his lip and says, “You sure it’s a good idea makin’ us all work together, big guy?”

“Fareeha is leading our team out in Siberia,” Winston says. “Jack has proven time and time again that he’s a proficient leader. Your skillset in subterfuge and covert ops will be useful in your pursuit, and Hanzo’s ability to strike from a distance with silent weaponry is invaluable.”

“But – ”

“So yes,” Winston says, cutting McCree off. “I do think it’s a good idea. If you three are going to be part of Overwatch, then you’ll have to learn how to work together eventually.”

“If this is anything like Genji’s early days, I’m gonna be pissed, that’s all I’m sayin’,” McCree grumbles, but Hana can tell he’s not serious. Well, not _too_ serious, at any rate, and he says, “So, any intel on location? Vishkar, probably.”

“As far as we can tell,” Winston agrees. “Lúcio’s been doing everything he can think of to Symmetra’s tablet to figure out where she might have gone. He hasn’t uncovered much, unfortunately; Symmetra is a high-ranking architech, but even she wasn’t privy to most of Vishkar’s plans. Still, he’ll keep you updated if he finds out anything more.”

“So, India,” McCree says, and when he chuckles, it’s humorless. “Been a while since I was there last.”

“What about the junker threat?” 76 asks.

“It’s unrelated at this point,” Winston says. “The duo have since moved on to China, as far as most of the world can figure. The way they avoid being tracked is actually remarkable, all things considered, but in any case, you shouldn’t have to worry about them.”

“We will need more than that to go on,” Hanzo says, eyes narrowed slightly in thought. “We cannot simply break into Vishkar headquarters and look around. They are one of the most hi-tech industries in the world, and their security systems are likely to reflect that.”

“Reconditioning, right?” 76 says suddenly, leaning forward to rest his elbows and folded hands on the table. He voice is quiet and sober. “Probably a single place in the building. We find that, we find her.”

There’s a moment of silence, delicate and balancing, and Hana –

( _Do not_ , D.Va says softly, and Hana swallows hard, _She will be fine. They will get her out._ )

( _She is my friend_ , Hana whispers, _I cannot just leave her to her fate, what if_ – )

( _You are needed in Siberia. The greater of many over the life of one, is it not?_ )

( _I know her better than anyone here, I_ – )

( _You have always liked a bargain_ , D.Va whispers.)

( _When it is my own life,_ Hana answers, fierce. _Not another’s._ )

“Reconditioning,” Hana repeats, interrupting whatever conversation is taking place. She doesn’t mean to, but it’s too late, and she stares Winston dead in the eye. “Do we know what it entails?”

Winston is silent for a few moments, recovering from his surprise, Hana would gather; then he sighs, long and slow, and says, “Lúcio has given me a few details, based on what he could glean from the tablet.”

“And?”

( _Vishkar isn’t likely to show mercy_ , Lúcio had said, and he would know better than anyone. _If they have Symmetra, we’ve only got so much time before they do something terrible._ )

“They do not physically torture their architechs, before you ask,” Winston says, and each word comes out with visible effort as he says, terse, “They rely on emotional and verbal cues to get their point across. Isolation is a big part of it, as far as we know. Other than that, we can only guess.”

“Let’s not,” McCree says, uneasy, and there’s a silent agreement that goes around the room. “So, when are we headin’ out?”

“As soon as this meeting is over,” Winston says. “Lena will be flying us first to southern India, and then D.Va and I will continue with her to Siberia. I expect you to rest on the plane.”

( _You read the email_ , D.Va warns, knowing, watching as Hana’s mind speeds along. _She knew what she was getting into._ )

( _That does not mean she will be okay_ , Hana whispers.)

( _Stop. You know your role. This is how it has always been._ )

( _It has always been my life on the line, not someone else’s_.)

“Hana, your mech is already in the plane, as you know.” Hana nods, not at all paying attention. “Jack, I think it would be optimal if you continued to wear your disguise, unless you’re certain you can sneak around without any issues.”

“I’d rather go without,” 76 answers. “I can’t shoot as well without my visor. Plus, night vision.”

It’s a weak attempt at a joke, but it’s so unexpected that it startles a huff of laughter out of McCree and, surprisingly, Winston. “Very well,” the gorilla says presently. “I’ll give you all some time to get any equipment you might need. How about an hour?”

“Thirty minutes,” Hanzo says, and Hana spares a swift glance to him to find him oddly tense. Perhaps the two of them _are_ friends, as she had guessed. She could see it.

“Agreed,” McCree says. “Sooner we get out there, sooner we can find Symmetra, sooner we can head to Siberia.”

( _You can trust them to do their jobs_ , D.Va whispers.)

( _I_ know _Satya better than all of them,_ Hana answers, just as quiet. _I should be there._ )

( _She would understand if you were not._ )

( _Just because she would understand it does not mean I should not go._ )

(D.Va is exasperated at this point and lets it go. Hana bares her teeth and says nothing.)

“So you’re coming with, Winston,” 76 says. “Who’s staying back, then?”

“Bastion, for obvious reasons,” Winston replies. “It was decided Zenyatta should stay back as well. He is not well-suited for stealth missions, and deploying him in Siberia is out of question. Lena has also volunteered to stay back.”

McCree’s eyebrows rise. “She _volunteered_ to stay back? You sure we’re talkin’ ‘bout the same Lena?”

“Something about cold weather and snow and getting in the way,” Winston says with a shrug. “I agree with her on that count. There will be so many soldiers in Siberia, even Overwatch will hardly make a stir. Besides, if something goes wrong here, Lena can bail out with the two omnics quickly.”

“What about Athena?”

“I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself, Agent McCree,” Athena says, teasing, and McCree gives a sheepish smile and salutes at the ceiling. “Since I have interrupted already: Agent Morrison, Dr. Ziegler has left the upgraded biotic fields you requested in the medbay, to be picked up at your convenience.”

“Thanks, Athena,” 76 says. “If that’s all, Winston?”

“For now. There will be periodic updates once we are en route, I’m sure.” Winston briefly reaches up to rub at his eyes, and Hana, just as briefly, wonders how much he’s slept in the past few days. “Dismissed.”

( _My squad will be in Siberia_ , Hana thinks to herself. _Stray will be there, too. Most of MEKA will be there._ )

( _You cannot abandon them_ , D.Va agrees.)

( _They can handle themselves without me_ , Hana replies. _They have managed fine thus far._ )

( _They were not in direct combat, then. It was not as though the entire battalion was acting as one, as they are now._ )

( _But they_ are _now, and have been for a few days._ )

( _That is hardly a comparison._ )

( _Stray will manage, especially if my squad advises. I am but one of many MEKA pilots there; I will hardly be missed._ )

“Hana?” 76 says, and Hana jumps to her feet, almost hitting her knees on the table, and makes her way towards him on autopilot. He’s at the door of the conference room; apparently she had just sat there without moving even after Winston’s dismissal, and she falls into step beside 76 as he begins to walk towards the medbay. “Anything the matter?”

“No – maybe,” she answers, frowning tightly. “I will have to get back to you on it.” 76 nods and doesn’t press.

They separate when they pass by the mess hall – Hana goes to the kitchen to grab whatever food she can find for the trip, though most is already stored out in Siberia so there isn’t much, and 76 continues on to the medbay, intent on the biotic fields. McCree and Hanzo are elsewhere in the base, collecting what they needed for their stealth mission, and when Hana returns to her room, she hesitates in front of her closet.

( _No_ , D.Va says, and Hana grabs black leggings and a skintight black long-sleeved shirt anyway.)

She has only a little bag for her belongings – a change of clothes, what little food she’d snagged from the kitchen, the compact first-aid kit that she’s used for years and recently refilled – and then she’s out and trotting to the hangar, briefly mourning the lack of a shower as she ties her hair up into a high bun, a strange sense of calm settling over her shoulders. She can feel her blood coursing through her veins as she goes, a reminder of how fragile life is as she prepares to throw herself into the abyss, and –

( _Satya is alone_ , Hana whispers.)

( _Your squad needs you_ , D.Va answers, voice hard and sharp as diamond. She fights a losing battle, and they both know it.)

( _We have to go to her_. _After all she has done, we cannot let her be changed._ )

( _She is already. Our presence will hardly be any deterrent to Vishkar. We –_ )

( _She changed because of us – because of the people here. We have a duty._ )

( _We are MEKA._ You _are MEKA. Your duty is elsewhere, too, or have you forgotten your past allegiance that easily?_ )

(Hana’s lip curls. _I am Overwatch. And so is she._ )

She’s the first one at the plane, save for Tracer, who is sitting in the pilot’s chair, feet propped up on the console. She’s on a call with someone, another woman with red hair and a soft smile and laugh as she and Tracer quietly converse, and Hana sneaks in without her noticing and settles in a corner of the plane. Her mech sits quietly beside her; she’s not sure where her gaming equipment went, but she knows it’s around somewhere, and she shakes her head to clear it and pulls out her phone. Fortunately, Stray is online, and she opens up a chatlog with him without a second thought.

[D.Va]: any news?  
[Stray]: Some.  
[Stray]: I’ll be in Siberia within an hour. My squad informs me they haven’t blown anything up.

[ LockE has reentered 흩어진전쟁개 ]

[LockE]: Yet.  
[D.Va]: oh!  
[D.Va]: wasn’t expecting that, hello  
[Stray]: I mean, you’re in our chatroom.  
[D.Va]: i thought this was just dm lol  
[ccccc]: STRAY I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU BROUGHT A STRANGER IN HERE  
[Stray]: ... You do realize that that’s D.Va, right?  
[ccccc]: meaning??  
[10JQK]: she’s hardly a stranger, c5  
[ccccc]: WE ARE THE STRAY DOGS OF WAR!!! no one else is allowed in  
[Stray]: I’m sorry, what?  
[LockE]: It’s the name she came up with while you were gone. Sorry.  
[D.Va]: it’s pretty punny actually  
[D.Va]: i like it  
[Stray]: D.Va, don’t encourage them.  
[ccccc]: i told you stray dogs of war was good!  
[D.Va]: ;)  
[Stray]: Dammit.  
[10JQK]: this coming from the person whose squad calls themselves ‘the shitpost squad’  
[D.Va]: it’s a good name!  
[LockE]: Fitting, at the very least.  
[D.Va]: rude  
[Stray]: Okay, everyone calm down.  
[LockE]: What? It’s the truth.  
[10JQK]: zing! but we should probably listen to stray  
[ccccc]: booooooooo  
[D.Va]: booooooooo  
[ccccc]: holy shit i like her how come i was never in her squad  
[10JQK]: guys, come on  
[Stray]: Agreed. C5, D.Va, now is really not the time.  
[D.Va]: apologies lol  
[ccccc]: uwu  
[Stray]: Look, just. Ugh. What’s the situation out there?  
[10JQK]: pretty bad, but it could be worse  
[10JQK]: the russians have our forces scattered in the meantime. we are apparently not useful until we actually break into the omnium  
[ccccc]: (by ‘we’ they mean meka btw)  
[10JQK]: to do _that_ though we have to close off all the other entrances  
[LockE]: Have to seal them off, they mean. Which means explosives.  
[D.Va]: ah  
[LockE]: As far as we can tell, there are still quite a few entrances around the region. The omnium is far larger than anticipated.  
[ccccc]: did you know those omnics were digging underground??  
[ccccc]: who even knows how far and how deep the omnium goes really  
[10JQK]: it’s got the russians worried, at the very least  
[10JQK]: also they’ve got these huge mech things. bigger than ours. bigger guns, too. they’re fucking nuts man  
[ccccc]: oh!! and there’s this sergeant, zaryanova or something? she’s amazing!  
[D.Va]: zarya?  
[LockE]: She held the line by herself at another entrance for almost ten minutes before reinforcements arrived.  
[LockE]: Ten. _Minutes_.  
[D.Va]: holy fuck  
[Stray]: What about the other MEKA squads? The general chat’s been blowing up.  
[ccccc]: most of us have just stopped listening to the boss’s orders  
[10JQK]: a few have tried to lead, but no dice. that’ll change when you get here though  
[Stray]: Are we sure about that?  
[D.Va]: i’ll make sure if nothing else  
[LockE]: See? Nothing to worry about.  
[Stray]: You do realize I’ve never led more than my own squad.  
[Stray]: ... Somewhat abysmally, I might add.  
[10JQK]: what?? that’s not true!  
[LockE]: Abysmal? That’s pushing it a bit, don’t you think?  
[ccccc]: what happened to him wasn’t your fault  
[ccccc]: honestly how many times do we have to go over this  
[Stray]: ...  
[10JQK]: ha, well, no use worrying about it now  
[10JQK]: you’ll be fine. not like you’ll be going in blind, plus we can help you out  
[LockE]: C5, is there a reason you’ve extended as far as you have? Get back here.  
[ccccc]: guess who isn’t second-in-command! oh wait it’s you!!!  
[Stray]: _C5_.  
[ccccc]: fiiiine you always take her side  
[D.Va]: you haven’t heard anything about my squad have you?

There’s a long, heart-stopping moment before she gets an answer.

[LockE]: I remember Youngblood checked in an hour or so ago. Haven’t heard from her since, though.  
[10JQK]: they’ve been assigned a different entrance, probably  
[10JQK]: they’re fine though. doesn’t look like any of their names are on the casualty list  
[ccccc]: hey that must mean you’re coming here! why aren’t you here already??

She breathes a quiet sigh of relief. ( _They will not fall_ that _easily_ , D.Va whispers.)

[D.Va]: i just got on the plane  
[Stray]: And then she’s taking over for me. Thankfully.  
[LockE]: Ye of such little faith.  
[D.Va]: actually  
[D.Va]: i might not be  
[Stray]: What?  
[Stray]: Did Overwatch assign you to a different mission?  
[Stray]: Are you serious? After everything that happened, you’re not even going to be here? What the fuck!  
[D.Va]: i’m sorry

It’s a long, tense moment before Stray musters a response.

( _Selfish,_ D.Va whispers, dismissive, disparaging, and Hana sets her jaw. Her choice has been made.)

[Stray]: I’ll need you to send out a message in general chat.  
[Stray]: Everyone will have to listen to me, and if that’s going to happen, I need your backing.  
[D.Va]: done  
[Stray]: C5, Locke, 10, you’re on your own. Don’t fucking die.  
[ccccc]: aye aye captain  
[Stray]: I'm not a captain.  
[LockE]: We won’t let you down.  
[10JQK]: let us know if you need any help!  
[D.Va]: my squad will be at your disposal as well. talk to apple or me if you’re not sure about something  
[Stray]: Okay.  
[Stray]: Shit. I’m not ready for this.  
[Stray]: ... You think they’ll at least give me a pay raise?

Hana laughs. She can’t help it, and it’s quiet enough that Tracer doesn’t hear, broken enough that it hurts her own ears.

[D.Va]: petition them to increase everyone’s hazard pay  
[ccccc]: oh fuck yeah that’d be amazing  
[LockE]: In any case, good luck to you as well, D.Va, wherever you might be going.  
[LockE]: I can’t imagine what is more important than this mission, but I’m sure Overwatch has its reasons.  
[10JQK]: send us good vibes! we’re gonna need ‘em  
[D.Va]: will do  
[D.Va]: /w @Stray  
To [Stray]: one last thing, stray  
[Stray]: Yes?  
To [Stray]: meka pilots are valuable. this isn’t like any other kind of command game  
To [Stray]: you do everything you can to keep pilots alive, even if it’s at the cost of a lot of other lives  
To [Stray]: remember that, and you’ll do fine  
[Stray]: I  
[Stray]: ...  
[Stray]: Duly noted.

By now the other occupants of the plane are trickling in – Hanzo, dressed in dark, skintight garb, takes a corner near Hana, McCree in his cowboy getup again taking the opposite one, 76 sitting across from her with a weary set to his shoulders that she doesn’t miss. When she nudges him with her foot, though, he merely gives her a tiny shake of his head, and for now she lets it go.

The plane is not large, and it feels much smaller when Winston gets on board. Between him and the mech, there isn’t much leg room, and that’s when Tracer ends her call, stretches in her seat, and says to him, “Emily says good luck, big guy.”

“Oh, did I just miss her? Tell her I said hello.” Tracer chirps affirmative before lifting her legs from the pilot’s console and beginning to, presumably, get ready for the flight as Winston turns to the rest of them, as best he can. “Jesse, Hanzo, Jack – you’ll be dropped off in a relatively secluded area about ten or so miles from the city where Vishkar is headquartered. Keep in mind that it’s been entirely retrofitted with hardlight technology; you’re going to have to find some way to navigate without being caught, and it won’t be easy.”

“Suppose we’ll have to get a change of clothes,” McCree mutters.

“That, possibly,” Winston says with a nod, “And also earplugs. Lúcio informs me that his sound system was actually stolen from Vishkar itself, and they use it to control the masses. The last thing we want to do is lose contact with any of you because of this.”

There’s a moment of silence before Hanzo says, with some finality, “Vishkar is truly not under any international investigation right now?”

“No,” Winston says with a shake of his head. “They’ve hidden their tracks well enough. If you’re asking me, though, I think it’s only a matter of time, considering the materials we have on them.”

Hanzo nods, apparently satisfied. McCree looks like he’d swallowed something bitter, and 76 is, of course, inscrutable with his visor firmly in place. Winston, meanwhile, starts handing out earplugs, and Hana takes a pair when offered one. She’ll need it, because she’s going, because she’s –

( _This is your last chance to do the morally-correct thing_ , D.Va whispers.)

( _One life over the lives of many_ , Hana says, and then snarls, _Fuck your ruthless calculus._ )

[ D.Va has entered GENERAL CHAT ]

[D.Va]: listen up everyone  
[ΩMEGA]: holy fuck it’s d.va  
[cr01ss4nt]: oh thank god  
[D.Va]: i won’t be going to siberia myself, but stray will be  
[cr01ss4nt]: what??  
[D.Va]: he’s going to lead and all of you are going to follow. i’m vouching for his skills right now  
[D.Va]: don’t listen to the boss. we don’t know what’s happened, but overwatch is trying to figure out what went wrong  
[D.Va]: we all knew the stakes going into MEKA. don’t let our country down  
[CaerBaer]: Real inspirational, D.Va.  
[EVIE]: Shut up Caer  
[EVIE]: Unless you’ve forgotten who saved your ass the last time the omnic struck?  
[tlaloques]: saved all of our asses, not just yours  
[cr01ss4nt]: understood  
[Primality]: he has our support, whenever he gets here  
[D.Va]: good  
[D.Va]: go out there and destroy them. the russians might not be confident in us, but we play to win  
[CaerBaer]: great, another stupid line that means nothing  
[tlaloques]: caer, do us all a favor and kindly shut the fuck up

“Winston,” Hana says, and when the gorilla turns to face her, she says, “I am going after Symmetra, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **korean**  
>  _밈시티_ \- meme city  
>  _흩어진전쟁개_ \- stray dogs of war  (to the best of my knowledge - please correct my mistakes!)
> 
> as you probably all guessed: votes _overwhelmingly_ went to hana pursuing satya. remember, each choice you could have chosen have consequences, and just as you may not have liked the consequences of hana going to siberia, you may not like the consequences of hana pursuing satya. what a cheery thought, huh?
> 
> also, stray's squad is composed of OCs from roguevector, my beta. stray is also kind-of-sort-of from him, since he came up with the name and refined the personality i came up with and neither of us came up with design (mucho gracias arcaneadagio!). if you have questions about ccccc, 10JQK, or LockE, just send an ask his way over [his tumblr](http://roguevector.tumblr.com/) or something! (the rest of the pilots are just people i came up with and they aren't significant.)
> 
> also, apologies for not responding to comments. there were just. you know. _a lot_ of them, so i was a little overwhelmed, haha.
> 
> also, i changed the schedule again - biweekly now. with any luck, i will not die every time i need to post and actually, you know, update regularly.
> 
> also, look at this gorgeous and intense picture [batoid](http://batoidzmistake.tumblr.com/) drew! it's featured in ch61 if you're looking for context:
> 
> so... what's next? MEKA won't be getting much attention from here on out besides the occasional chatlog, so it's pretty straightforward: more heroes will be introduced, hana and d.va will continue to push and pull at each other, and she and her fellow agents will be out and about searching for satya. in the meantime, 76 will watch and wonder, hanzo will keep in almost constant communication with his brother, and mccree will be the best suited agent for the job. stay tuned!
> 
> (as a precaution, i will once against iterate that **there are no ships in this fic**. i in fact don't ship mchanzo very much these days, so please do not get your hopes up preemptively.)
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- lúcio's greatest strength is his unwavering belief that, despite everything that may have happened, everyone has the chance of being good, of _doing_ good. it is also his greatest weakness; sometimes, giving second, third, fourth, fifth chances isn't the best idea.  
>  \- reinhardt loves nutella. so does torbjörn. this is one of the first things that led these two to becoming friends, and they continually try to introduce winston to the concept of peanut butter nutella sandwiches.  
>  \- ana and jesse have long had a game: they would sit out in a public place, take a person, and try to assess as much as they could about that person just by watching them for a while. they have done this since the blackwatch days, and more often than not gabe would join them. on the rare occasions jack joined them as well, more time was spent shooting the breeze than actually doing anything, and jesse would spend the time trying not to put his foot in his mouth around his bosses.  
>  \- mercy's medical philosophy boils down to one thing at the end of the day: a life is a life and all life is precious. (from with grace in our hearts)  
>  \- symmetra is exceptionally skilled at discerning motivations and otherwise figuring out why people act the way they do. however, her calculations can occasionally be inaccurate, as she sometimes forgets to factor in emotional - and thus unpredictable - outbursts.  
>  \- zenyatta and pharah absolutely destroy at the practice range - he just throws an orb of harmony on her, tells her which targets he's discorded, and then pharah strikes from above. similarly, when genji sees the two of them together, especially if they're occasionally looking over at him, he knows to make himself scarce before he falls victim to some kind of prank.  
>  \- winston once found hana curled up in a corner of his office and, when asked why she was there and not around 76, learned that hana was engaged in an intense game of hide-and-seek (hanzo was seeking and, so far, had found everyone). winston then told her to wait a moment, grabbed his rocket boosters, and then jumped around the base, making it impossible for hanzo to find her. it was later called cheating because she was supposed to stay in one place, but hanzo let hana have the victory anyway and she and winston have been pretty good pals ever since.  
>  \- bastion is one of the most protective individuals to grace the earth. if backed into a corner with nowhere to go and a friend nearby, it will do everything in its power to defend its friend, regardless of cost.


	69. OPERATION: TRUTH (part 1 of 6)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> details are ironed out, and hana and co. prep for the descent into vishkar territory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hilariously i did not have time to run this chapter by my betas, ack. that would be the reason for typos or other mistakes you might see scattered about - i do my best to catch them on my own, but that's the way the cookie crumbles, i suppose!
> 
> this chapter is also extremely short because of school. so. yes.
> 
> have a wonderful day today <3

Her words echo in the small space, she finds quickly enough. Besides the quiet hum of the engines, no other sound contradicts her, and any uncertainty that might be stewing inside her vanishes in an instant. This is what she is meant to do, she has _decided_ , and she shifts until her stance is grounded, legs shoulder-width apart, and braces her arms at her sides.

She is ready to fight. (She is always ready to fight, but now she steels herself for it.)

“That might not be a good idea,” McCree says, gentle and slow, and Hana snaps her head over to look at him, baring her teeth in the beginnings of a snarl.

“Hana is more than well-suited for this,” Hanzo retorts before she can say a word, and she glances over at him in surprise as he says, “She’s small, fast – and with her disguise, invisible.”

“You said yourself that you’re needed in Siberia,” Winston says, watching her carefully. 76 has yet to say a word. “Why the change of heart?”

“MEKA will manage without me,” Hana replies, resisting the urge to look down at her phone even as it continues to buzz with chatroom updates. “As you said yourself, one person is hardly noticeable in the grand scheme of things. MEKA itself is dwarfed by the Russian forces regardless.”

“Your mech is not at all suited for stealth,” Winston notes, glancing over at it.

“I do not need it,” Hana says, and that gets 76’s attention, his head turning towards her. “I am a perfectly capable combatant on my own, and if the situation is desperate, I can call it to my location. It merely needs to be nearby.”

“The whole point of pulling her out of Numbani was to keep MEKA from taking her back,” Hanzo points out before anyone else can speak. “In taking her to Siberia, you are dropping her on their doorstep. If nothing else, her coming with us lowers the chance of her being taken away.”

“MEKA wouldn’t cross Overwatch,” McCree responds, idly lifting one eyebrow. He doesn’t seem neither for nor against the plan; perhaps he’s more interested to see the end result. “And even then, it’s not like she would be alone. Everyone else would be keeping an eye on her.”

“Doubtful,” Hana says, shaking her head. “MEKA forces are highly mobile. I would have joined my squad, and while Athena is capable of tracking me, it would be easy for MEKA to secure me before any of you could act.”

“Still, this means leaving MEKA without an experienced leader,” Winston says, troubled. “The ramifications of that could be – huge, Hana. I’m not sure if Symmetra’s wellbeing is worth the possible alliances and lives in Siberia. In the grand scheme of things – ”

“You are not telling me anything I have not already thought of myself,” Hana says, feeling D.Va’s smugness in the corner of her mind. “Yet you are telling me that my life is more valuable than hers, and who has the right to judge that?”

* * *

[AppleCIder]: wow hey guys, check this out.  
[AppleCIder]: katya volskaya’s been locked in her safe room again.  
[MIM]: wtf are you talking about  
[takes22tango]: Someone tried to assassinate her maybe a month ago. Don’t you remember?  
[MIM]: no? why should i care about what happened to someone entirely irrelevant to south korea ㅇㅅㅇ  
[AppleCIder]: apparently it’s another sniper, according to the security vids. which, for some reason, are actually working this time.  
[takes22tango]: Maybe it’s the same sniper.  
[takes22tango]: Not that we can know that, of course, but still.  
[MIM]: why do we care about this again?  
[AppleCIder]: makes you wonder what exactly is going on out there at the very least...

* * *

“That wasn’t what I meant. It isn’t about an individual’s life,” Winston says, infuriatingly patient. “This is about more than that. This is about an omnium, which, if it gets out of control, can result in a Second Omnic Crisis. The reason the U.N. streamlined Overwatch’s legality in the first place is because of this incident specifically, and while I can’t force you to do something, I would highly advise you to reconsider.”

“You’re her commandin’ officer,” McCree says. “You can make her do anything.”

“Please,” Hanzo sniffs, “Like any of us listened to our betters when we were young.”

“I am _not a child_ ,” Hana snaps.

“That is not what I said,” Hanzo replies, casting her a raised eyebrow, and Hana rolls her eyes as he looks back to Winston. “Even if Hana were to go to Siberia, there is no guarantee that she will be able to do what MEKA’s leader cannot. I do not doubt her skills, but I do doubt MEKA’s ability to adapt to her leadership so quickly and on such short notice.”

“They already know I am not going,” Hana adds, crossing her arms over her chest. “Stray is as ready as he will ever be.”

“He has no combat command experience,” Winston says; “You said so yourself.”

“I have faith in his abilities,” Hana says, eyes narrowing, “As should you.”

“Trial by fire ain’t the cleanest way to learn,” McCree says. “There’ll be consequences.”

“We also run the risk of any of you being captured,” Winston says. “Hana in particular would be a very valuable hostage, especially for Talon. Do we want to risk that again?”

“Do not talk about me like I am not here,” Hana seethes, “And I am fully capable of protecting myself.”

“Regardless of that or not, the fact remains that MEKA needs ya more than Satya does,” McCree says, and his words bite her to the bone. “This is about the world, not just one person. The best decisions are often the hardest ones.”

“And where would you have learned something like that?” Hanzo snaps, leaning forward on his knees. “You think Hana doesn’t know that just as well, if not better, than you?”

He’s right, in a heart-wrenching way, and Hana purses her lips as McCree falls silent. Winston’s expression is carefully neutral, hiding whatever he might be feeling, and Hanzo is fierce and defiant. _On my behalf_ , Hana thinks, and then, _it seems he is a good ally to have after all._

(D.Va says nothing.)

* * *

[  Stray has entered GENERAL CHAT ]

[Stray]: 여보세요  
[Stray]: I’m sure you already know that I’ll be taking over for the Boss upon arrival.  
[Stray]: Well. Here I am. Let’s not waste time.  
[Stray]: Everyone pull back from the front lines as soon as possible. Until we seal all entrances and enter the omnium itself, we’re only good for taking down bastion units. Let the Russian forces take care of the rest, at least for now.  
[Stray]: Disobey direct orders from Russian officers. For the moment, you answer to me.  
[Stray]: As soon as you’re able – squad leaders, sitrep.  
[EVIE]: Finally

* * *

“There’s too much at stake,” Winston says presently. He sounds firm – tired, but firm. “Hana, you have to go to Siberia. There’s absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t.”

“Because it is Satya,” Hana says, her scowl deepening. “Because I do not leave my own behind.”

“What about your squad?” Winston presses, and Hana can feel D.Va lurking at the corners of her consciousness. “What about those in MEKA? Your friends?”

“If I did not think they could handle themselves, I would tell you.” She raises her chin. “But I do.”

“Regardless – ”

“I am but one piece on the board, Winston,” Hana snarls, losing the tiny sliver of patience she had been harboring. “MEKA will not be useful until the combined forces break through and enter the omnium itself. That will take days, if not weeks, and it will involve battles and skirmishes with which MEKA is familiar. I trust them, and I trust Stray, and I trust that MEKA will be successful, with or without me. I would know better than anyone; is it that hard for you to trust me?”

“It’s not a question of trust,” Winston says, voice heavy. “It was never a question of trust, Hana. It’s a question of comparison, of what is worth more in the long run. We – ”

“I do not care!” Hana shouts.

The silence that follows is deafening, and Hana holds Winston’s eyes with her own and glares. The situation is absurd, everything about it; _yes_ , she knows she’s being selfish, _yes_ , she knows that she probably would be more useful in Siberia, but the fact remains that that isn’t what she wants, that she trusts Stray and MEKA to do their jobs, that Satya is out there and she needs help and Hana may not owe her but she _knows_ her.

(Satya has described Vishkar to her before – quiet discussions over dinner, over the sound of gunshots in the practice range, walking down through the halls. Hana doesn’t think what waits for them in India will be pretty, and she knows, more than anyone here, what that might entail.)

“Jack,” Winston says, turning to the man in question. He hasn’t uttered a word throughout, and he doesn’t move at all when the gorilla pleads, quite simply, “Please.”

The situation would be humorous if Hana had been in a better mood. Now she scoffs; if Winston thinks that 76 can do anything to change her opinion, he’s got another thing coming. 76 knows this as well, turning his head slightly so the red line of his visor is in line with her eyes, and he merely shakes his head when Hana, proud, strong, lifts her head.

* * *

[Stray]: D.Va, I need advice.  
[D.Va]: fire away  
[Stray]: MEKA squads are spread out all over Siberia. Should I gather them all together and then split them off according to their skill set, or leave them where they are?  
[D.Va]: how much time do you have  
[Stray]: In what sense?  
[D.Va]: can the russian forces hold the line and destroy omnium entrances without a meka presence?  
[Stray]: Presumably. I’m not sure we’re actually necessary here at all.  
[D.Va]: talk to the russian officers before you do  
[D.Va]: otherwise i’d recommend it. you’d stand to lose less units if they are put in optimal positions  
[D.Va]: do you need help in that regard?  
[Stray]: No, I think I’ve got it.  
[Stray]: Thanks, D.Va.  
[D.Va]: np

* * *

“I don’t decide for her, Winston,” 76 says.

“Jack – ”

“I don’t control her, and nor should anyone else,” 76 says, and then his head turns slightly to presumably look over at Winston. “How often has she made a choice for herself? She said it'd be fine, so it'll be fine. Let it go.”

“This is a bad idea,” McCree says before Winston can.

“You already said that, and no, it isn’t,” Hanzo replies, and then, “There are better ideas, but this one is a good one, regardless.”

Winston sighs, long and slow. Hana can feel the prickling of doubt beginning curling dark in her mind, but she brushes it away and remains tall as the gorilla bows his head, just for a moment. “Very well,” he says, sounding defeated. “Hana, you’ll be accompanying these three to Vishkar’s headquarters. We will have to figure out what to do with your mech.”

She expects the anger to dissipate now that she’s won the argument, but no – it remains, coiled and tight in her chest, and it hardens her voice to an edge as she says, “I have an idea.”

* * *

[MIM]: you’re  
[MIM]: you’re not coming?  
[takes22tango]: But... doesn’t Overwatch see how important this is? Don’t they realize that you’re needed here, now more than ever?  
[AppleCIder]: we’re not free from youngblood?  
[D.Va]: it’s not overwatch’s fault  
[D.Va]: this other mission we’re going on – i need to be on it  
[takes22tango]: You _chose_ to go on another mission?  
[AppleCIder]: way to get our hopes up d.va.  
[MIM]: but what’s the other mission then?  
[D.Va]: i can’t tell you  
[MIM]: bullshit! we’ve been through so much together and you won’t tell us why you’re not coming back to us??  
[MIM]: whatever that mission is, surely you realize that where we are, what we’re doing is _so much more important_  
[AppleCIder]: mim, calm down.  
[MIM]: NO  
[MIM]: IT WOULD’VE BEEN FINE IF OVERWATCH HAD _ASSIGNED_ HER TO A DIFFERENT MISSION BUT NO!! SHE _CHOSE_ SOMETHING OVER _US_!  
[D.Va]: that’s not what it is  
[MIM]: YOU JUST SAID IT WAS  
[D.Va]: that's not what i said!  
[takes22tango]: D.Va, please. _Please_ tell us where you’re going.  
[D.Va]: ...  
[D.Va]: india  
[D.Va]: vishkar  
[AppleCIder]: _vishkar_? what do they have to do with anything?  
[takes22tango]: It must be something, if D.Va is going.  
[takes22tango]: We’ll do our best in your absence. With Stray leading, of course.  
[MIM]: I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS

[  MIM has left 밈 시티 ]

[takes22tango]: mim, please – oh, shoot.  
[AppleCIder]: ... i’ll keep an eye on him.  
[D.Va]: ...  
[takes22tango]: I guess you can’t tell us what you’re doing in Vishkar territory, huh?  
[takes22tango]: They make everyone nervous, as far as I can tell from the news. Stay safe out there.  
[D.Va]: same to you  
[D.Va]: and no i can’t tell you what i’m doing. sorry  
[AppleCIder]: i guess that will have to do.  
[AppleCIder]: don’t worry about mim. he’ll come around eventually.  
[D.Va]: i didn’t realize it would affect him this much  
[takes22tango]: He and Youngblood... really don’t get along.  
[AppleCIder]: ask him when you have the chance.  
[D.Va]: ok. i will  
[D.Va]: and  
[D.Va]: i’m sorry  
[takes22tango]: No worries, D.Va.  
[AppleCIder]: well, maybe some. but if you have somewhere else to be, i get it.  
[AppleCIder]: best of luck to us all.

* * *

( _You chose Satya over them,_ D.Va whispers. _You used my name to act as your shield, but this is all on you._ )

( _I do not regret it_ , Hana whispers, tucking her phone away, and determination burns hot and bright in her chest.)

Winston, at least, had waited until she had completed her conversation on her phone; once he sees she’s done, however, he leans forward on his hands and says, "Having you on foot in dangerous. You’re a highly-specialized unit and aren’t exactly equipped to handle missions of this kind.”

“I am _military_ , Winston,” Hana shoots back. “Just because I may not look it does not mean I cannot fight. I can use any firearm handed to me and I am proficient in hand-to-hand combat.”

“I’m not disputing that,” Winston says, sighing. “You’re going on the mission, you don’t need to convince me of your abilities. Right now I need you to work with me, all right?” She shouldn’t be angry, but she is, and in the end she just scowls and says nothing. Winston shakes his head slightly before he says, “If you’re not going in your mech, what will you do if you need it? I’m assuming MEKA has some kind of protocol for this.”

“It depends on whether you blew up your mech or it was destroyed while you were fighting,” Hana says. “An explosion allows for satellites to more easily track a pilot’s location; when the mech is destroyed, it takes longer for the deployment signal to locate us.”

“Why wasn’t MEKA able to find us en route to Gibraltar, then?” 76 asks. “Just out of curiosity.”

“I rewrote the tracking program,” Hana says. He knows that already – ah, but perhaps the others don’t, so she adds, “You remember how surprised I was when I was able to successfully recall my mech, correct?”

“Right,” 76 says, and then, “Doesn’t your mech need to be entirely destroyed for the recall to work, then?”

* * *

[D.Va]: quick question  
[D.Va]: can you recall a mech if it hasn’t been blown up  
[takes22tango]: Do you... do you actually blow up your mech as a tactical move?  
[AppleCIder]: that is _hardcore_.  
[AppleCIder]: also yes you can. reynolds tends to do that a lot.  
[takes22tango]: D.Va, the danger you put yourself into even when you’re not in MEKA never fails to astound me.  
[D.Va]: born to fight, that’s us  
[D.Va]: thanks guys  
[AppleCIder]: have fun sneaking around.  
[takes22tango]: Jeez, when’s the last time we ever had a mission on foot? I think it’s been at least several months.  
[AppleCIder]: good thing, too. i hate walking.

* * *

“Yes,” Hana says.

“So she can join us as a field agent and, if things get really dicey, can call her mech,” McCree surmises. He’s quiet for a few moments before saying, “If she’s seen in her mech, our cover is blown and both Overwatch _and_ MEKA will be implicated. One is bad, both is worse, and at least Jack, Hanzo and I don’t have official ties to Overwatch.”

“I do,” 76 says, and when McCree raises an eyebrow at him, he explains, “Remember Rio de Janeiro? Hana was streaming. Almost guarantee I was caught on camera once or twice. Not to mention Saint Petersburg.”

“True,” Winston says, frowning, “But we did a lot of damage control to contain that as best as we could, as did Vishkar. It’s still a huge risk.”

“And Hana, not to belittle your skills,” McCree says, “But you shine best when you’re _in_ your mech, not out of it. This ain’t a good idea.”

“So you’ve said, many times,” Hanzo replies. “The decision has been made regardless. Stop arguing and try to think of plans instead.”

“Don’t order me around.”

Hanzo sniffs, chin lifting even as he falls silent. 76 sighs heavily, turning away to look at Hana. “Hanzo’s been teaching you how to sneak around, right?”

“Yes,” Hana affirms.

“And your aim has gotten much better over the past few months.” Hana nods, and 76 glances over at Winston. “Leave the mech, follow as a field agent. She’s a soldier, Winston; she’ll be fine.”

“That’s not the only thing to worry about,” Winston says, expression unreadable but his voice belying his uncertainty, “as I’ve iterated several times. – But you’re right. Very well, Hana, I’ll trust you to do this.”

“If I do call for my mech, it will only be in an emergency in which I have no other way to escape,” Hana says. “I will not let you down.”

“I know,” Winston assures her. ( _You already have,_ D.Va adds, and Hana bites the inside of her cheek.)

* * *

[Stray]: Everyone’s gathered? Good.  
[Stray]: EVIE, your squad is taking the far east entrance. They are equipped with short-range weapons, so your flying should make short work of them.  
[EVIE]: Understood  
[EVIE]: Primality is still on foot. What should I do about that?  
[Stray]: Caer, do you think you can extract him?  
[CaerBaer]: Both him and cr01ss4nt? I can try, but no promises.  
[CaerBaer]: EVIE, ping me Primality's location and my squad will move out.  
[Stray]: Good.  
[Stray]: Ω, you still there?  
[ΩMEGA]: just me and tlaloques. we lost naiad and downtown to the anti-aircraft guns  
[Stray]: Shit.  
[Stray]: You’re on east entrance, a few kilometers west of EVIE’s squad. I’ll ping you coordinates.  
[Stray]: Youngblood, you’re all here?  
[Youngblood]: remind me who put you in charge?  
[takes22tango]: D.Va did. Now shut up and listen.  
[Youngblood]: last I checked, you weren’t leading here, tango  
[Stray]: Youngblood, take your squad and go west.  
[Stray]: You’ll be augmenting Russian forces and taking down the Bastion units.  
[Youngblood]: we’d be more useful further west with the artillery units  
[Stray]: _Youngblood_.  
[Youngblood]: ugh fine  
[Stray]: We don’t have time to argue about this, either way.  
[Stray]: Alright – c5, you remember what we discussed?

* * *

“So, what, if we get recognized, we just fuckin’ book it?”

“I suppose,” Winston says, looking chagrined. “We’ll all be stationed elsewhere, so there isn’t much we can do. Unfortunately, Jesse, all of you are effectively on your own.”

“That would be wise. It is easier to just call us rogue agents,” Hanzo agrees. “Remaining under the radar is of course our aim, but in the happenstance that revealing ourselves is unavoidable – ”

“This isn’t Blackwatch,” Winston says, voice firm. “We’ll own up to our mistakes as they come up.”

Hanzo raises an eyebrow but doesn’t speak up. Hana looks over at 76, but the old soldier’s attention is elsewhere, and it’s hard to tell what he’s looking at with his visor secured on his face. It’s McCree who says, “Least one of us has a disguise. Two, technically.”

“I could get used to red hair,” Hana says with a ghost of a smile. It’s an automatic attempt to lighten the mood, and it falls flat because she’s feeling just as serious as everyone else. “Not that it matters. If the city Vishkar is in is anything like Symmetra described to me, we’ll need other ways to blend in.”

“I don’t think that’s advisable,” Winston says; “That would mean long-term infiltration, and we don’t have the time. It’s best to just sneak about as best as you can.”

“Do you think that’s even possible?” Hanzo says doubtfully. “This is Vishkar, after all.”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Winston says.

“That’s reassurin’,” McCree drawls, leaning over on his chair to rest his head in his hand. “’Course, with any luck, we’ll be in and out and it won’t even matter.”

“Should we put up resistance if they attempt to capture us?” 76 says, and raises both hands when Winston fixes him with a withering look. “Yes, I know you just said we’d own up to our mistakes, but it’s a legitimate question. If we think we can escape, should we try to, or should we just surrender at the first sign of conflict?”

“I suppose there can’t be a simple dichotomy for everything,” Winston says, sighing; “I’ll trust your judgment, Jack.”

“As you say,” 76 says with a nod. “Anything else we should know going in?”

“Unfortunately, there is so little information that you are essentially going in blind,” Winston replies. “Once I give you your earplugs, once you hit the ground, you’re essentially on your own. Lúcio may provide updates if he learns anything more from Symmetra’s tablet, of course, but you will have no support from any of us.”

“ _I’ll be around, not to worry!_ ” Tracer says through intercom. “ _You need an emergency pickup, I’ll be there in a jiffy._ ”

“Right,” Winston says, “That too.”

“Great,” 76 says. He doesn’t sound sarcastic, but Hana would guess he’s not terribly enthused, either.

* * *

[Stray]: Everyone have their assignments? Roll call.  
[EVIE]: Easternmost entrance  
[CaerBaer]: Extraction duty.  
[ΩMEGA]: east entrance, bit west of evie’s squad.  
[Youngblood]: west entrance, supplementing russian forces  
[ccccc]: westernmost entrance  
[tReason]: main entrance, auxiliary support.  
[LuckyStars]: main entrance, transport between there and main base  
[AbsOlitE]: East side, auxiliary support.  
[Reynolds]: West side, auxiliary support.  
[Stray]: Remember, if anything comes up, report directly to me. If you don’t ping me at least once every hour, I’ll assume the worst.  
[Stray]: Alright. Let’s go.

* * *

“ _Almost there, loves,_ ” Tracer says. “ _No goin’ back once we get there._ ”

Somehow, Hana knows those words are directed at her, but if there's a desired effect, it fails to reach her - she can and she _will_ see this through.

... It’s the least she can do, after leaving so many behind.

“Let's go,” 76 says, and as the Thunderbird drops towards the ground, she's the first to follow him as he stands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **korean**  
>  _여보세요_ \- hello  
>  _밈 시티_ \- meme city
> 
> "but sheba, this chapter only has 3k words!" yes i know, but listen, i am hella stressed because of school and the trump presidency. i can't promise anything in the coming months, either, depending on what our dear old cheeto president does in the future, so please be patient with me, ok? love you all <3 (except if you support trump. i mean, i'm sure you're a good person, kinda. maybe. but like, if you spew one pro-trump thing at me...)
> 
> "but sheba, this chapter doesn't have headcanons!" see above.
> 
> "but sheba, [insert complaint]" TRUMP, OKAY? IT'S TRUMP'S FAULT. BLAME TRUMP. i know i usually try to stay politics-free on ao3 but honestly? it's his fault that i'm as angry as i am these days.
> 
> in other news, hi! glad to see you're all still with me even as i struggle to update regularly. hope you're all excited for the next few chapters, it's gonna be a wild ride that i hope you'll enjoy! (plus, new characters! c:) if you wanna talk to me about anything, hit me up on my tumblr, k? link to that is below!
> 
> also just a reminder that TDLH is part of a series, and that there are a ton of accompanying oneshots and ficlets. you might be able to understand - or even guess - more about the fic if you read them!
> 
> that's it! have a great day today, y'all! (or evening, as it were. c:)
> 
> **EDIT** : aight so i've been getting a lot of comments where people are like SHIT WE MADE A MISTAKE. nah fam: any choice you made, i would've guilted you _hard_ for it. winston would've gone over in excruciating detail what could go wrong if hana went to siberia instead, exactly as he did here in the reverse situation. just keep that mind as the story updates! anyway love you have a restful night and a wonderful weekend  <3


	70. OPERATION: TRUTH (part 2 of 6)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana and co. go to poke the sleeping lion. How kindly Vishkar takes this will never be known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUP FAM
> 
> BEEN A HOT MINUTE SINCE THE LAST UPDATE! MY B MY B. TAKE THIS WITH GRATITUDE AND APOLOGIES <3 HAVE AN EXCELLENT DAY BABES
> 
> also this is largely unbeta'd! apologies for typos and stuff lmao

Hana would be the first to admit that she has no idea where in India they actually are.  She doesn’t think it’s important, considering that Tracer is dropping them off in an area that’s close enough to Vishkar’s city that the skyscrapers are visible, but she is admittedly a bit curious as the Thunderbird touches down and the four of them make ready to jump out. Perhaps it’s just her thinking that she should pay some respect to Satya’s home – but then again, considering what Vishkar is planning to do to Satya in the first place, maybe it’s not really her home after all.

It doesn’t matter, regardless. Hana will do whatever it takes to get Satya out with as few casualties as possible, and so she hops off the plane after 76 in her mech without hesitation, McCree and Hanzo trailing behind. Winston gives them a wave before the cargo bay doors close, and then the plane lifts off and it’s just them, alone near a quiet, clean freeway and hidden by an embankment, some trees, and the darkness of the night and waning moon.

It’s – strange, in a way that liminal spaces are strange. She feels disconcerted and reflexively tightens her grip on the triggers of her guns.

“Need to deal with that, first,” 76 says presently, making a vague gesture to her mech.

“The range of my MEKA’s recall mechanism is very large,” Hana says. “It should be fine if we leave it around here.”

“Y’sure? ’Cause if it gets spotted, we’re fucked,” McCree points out, one hand readjusting his serape while the other swept over Peacekeeper.

“Yes, thank you for pointing out the obvious,” Hanzo sniffs, and when McCree gives him a flat look, he makes a show of glancing around and ignoring him. “This hardly looks like a place where one might loiter, so I doubt we have to worry. Vishkar is brutally efficient.”

“Better safe than sorry,” 76 says. “Let’s cover your mech up as best we can around here and then make our way over on foot.”

It’s easy work to move her MEKA into a more inconspicuous location, ducking it down behind trees and a ledge and tucking it into a dark corner, and the air is surprisingly cool when Hana slips free of her mech. It’s somehow worse being out in the open – the place is too quiet in a way that makes the hairs on the back of her neck rise, the near-silent freeway beside them and the complete absence of any wildlife so close to it. This late at night there should be insects buzzing incessantly in her ear, and she notes with no small sense of dread that the only sound permeating the blanket silence is the rustling of the four of them camouflaging her MEKA.

It’s only once her mech has been covered with foliage and dirt that the four of them set off, sticking close to the road but remaining out of sight. It would be perhaps a twenty- to thirty-minute trek to Vishkar’s city-state itself; Hana is too jacked up on adrenaline and nerves to feel the exhaustion pulling at her bones. Even now the world doesn’t feel quite real, like she’ll wake up and nothing will have changed in Numbani, and her mind can only feebly grasp at what Satya might be going through as she goes.

“Do we know what exactly we should be expectin’, goin’ in?” McCree asks after a few minutes’ worth of silence, and Hana notes belatedly that his ever-present spurs are missing from his person – apparently, he actually is competent at stealth missions, and she wonders briefly what exactly his Blackwatch days had been like.

“There is very little information out there, unfortunately,” 76 answers. “Lúcio has been feeding us what he can based on Symmetra’s tablet, but I’m assuming we should expect a repeat of Rio de Janeiro.”

“Which I wasn’t there for,” McCree says with a sigh. “And no doubt they’ll’ve increased security since then.”

“They are likely aware that we are pursuing Satya, as well,” Hanzo agrees. “They will be expecting us.”

“We can still speak with the others via comm – we will be updated if any news come up, yes?” Hana asks.

“Presumably,” 76 says, and then, with the faintest trace of amusement, “We can always open the emergency text channel if need be.”

McCree snorts. He doesn’t bother to explain why both Hana and Hanzo fix him with curious looks, and Hana adds it to the list of things to ask about at some point in the future.

“I don’t think it’ll come to that, though,” 76 goes on. “I have no doubt Hanzo and Jesse will be able to pull this off.”

“Such faith,” Hanzo says, a little dry. 76 shoots him a look and he amends, almost smug, “It is not misplaced.”

“If you’re not goin’ in, what will you and Hana be doing?” McCree asks.

76 shrugs. “Dunno. It was just a suggestion; I never ran these kinds of ops, if you’ll recall. You’re better off calling the shots.”

McCree’s step stutters, just for an instant, before he says incredulously, “Are you serious?”

“I’m not Gabe,” 76 reminds him. McCree’s expression of shock quickly schools itself into something more neutral, but Hana can tell he’s still a bit shaken by the way he rubs his flesh thumb against his fingers. “You and Hanzo are much more knowledgeable about this kind of thing. I’ll defer to your judgment.”

“Shit, Jack,” McCree says with a bark of a laugh. “I can’t even imagine what Reyes would say to that.”

Whatever reaction McCree had hoped to elicit, it doesn’t come; instead, 76 just snorts and waves a dismissive hand. “You’ve seen us work together, Jesse. You know just as well as I do that he always ran the stealth missions, not me.”

“And every other fuckin’ mission that you didn’t want to dirty your hands with,” McCree says, and though it’s said neutrally, the animosity is heavily implied. Hana frowns and exchanges a glance with Hanzo; whatever is being discussed right now is flying over their heads.

“You think it was my choice?” 76 says presently, and he doesn’t sound angry, just tired. “I didn’t ask for the promotion. Gabe knew that. He outranked me and was more experienced, but I had more charisma or whatever it is the U.N. said, so I clearly would do a better job. Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t, but that’s the way it is when the world leaders want a posterchild who’s White.” _Oh, shit_ , Hana thinks, and McCree is startled into silence as 76 sighs. “We made it work for as long as we could.”

“The stories said that you two were constantly at each other’s throats,” Hanzo says noncommittally, gracefully steering the conversation elsewhere before McCree stuck his foot in his mouth.

“That was bullshit,” 76 says by way of explanation, and now he’s starting to sound a bit more heated. “The media played up whatever the hell they wanted. We didn’t care until it started to affect our work, and by then, it was too late.”

“You never went on any missions with Reyes,” McCree says, and while before he sounded accusatory, now he just sounded – empty. “You tellin’ me you _knew_ what kind of shit we went through?”

“ _Yes_ , Jesse, that’s exactly what I’m trying to say,” 76 snaps, and Hana reaches out and curls her hand around his arm. He flashes a glance down at her, expression unreadable because of his visor, but he lowers his voice when he speaks again. “I knew exactly what was happening. Gabe and I kept each other updated, and I know it got tense at the end, but we were always – we always worked together. Always.”

“Why didn’t you try to fix it, then?” The accusatory tone returns. Hana and Hanzo exchange another glance, unsure of how to interrupt, unsure if they should. “Why didn’t you help us?”

“Gabe and I did everything we could, Jesse,” 76 says with heated promise. “You think I was okay with what was happening? Did you think Gabe was? We tried to fix things, we tried to tell the higher-ups our problems, and – ” he sighs – “and we failed.”

A moment of stillness. “That’s not what Reyes said,” McCree says softly.

“You don’t know him like I do,” 76 replies, and raises his free hand when McCree bristles. “I’m not discounting your relationship with him, Jesse. Just – there are things you don’t know, and let’s leave it at that.”

Hana tightens her grip around 76’s arm and casts a glance towards the busy freeway beside them. They’re far enough away to be unseen, close enough that she can see individual maglev cars speeding by, and the only sound for a long, few moments is their footsteps across the grass.

“So, if you are not looking to lead us,” Hanzo says, breaking the silence gently with a lowered voice, “I may have some ideas.”

There’s a pause, wherein McCree continues to stare daggers into 76’s side, wherein 76 ignores the cowboy and stares straight ahead. Hana twists her fingers into the cloth of his shirt, drawing his attention away from his headspace, and stares at his face until he turns his head to look her in the eye. “We should probably figure out what we are going to be doing,” Hana agrees when it’s clear 76 isn’t going to speak, and Hanzo sends her a grateful look as McCree shakes his head, letting the point go. It’s a long moment before the tension in 76’s shoulders begins to bleed away.

“The first thing we need to do is figure out where Satya is being kept, specifically,” Hanzo says, all business. “We do not have much time to do so, but I do remember from reviewing the reports from Rio de Janeiro that Vishkar can and will plant false leads.”

“They’ll be expectin’ more resistance, too, I reckon,” McCree muses, easily falling into the pre-mission planning. “We might have a better shot at sneakin’ in and out if that’s the case.”

“I have reviewed several of Satya’s architectural designs,” Hanzo says. “Vishkar buildings are built to prevent easy infiltration. The best way in would be through the roof, though we would have to contend with security systems. Otherwise, the only possible ways in are through the ground floor.”

“So the front door,” Hana says, heart sinking.

“Or the back,” 76 says, and Hanzo nods in agreement. “Not that that would be much better, but getting to the roof of one of their buildings will be impossible for everyone except Hanzo.”

“There’s no way we can just dally in through the front,” McCree says. “Even if we managed to scrounge up some disguises, Vishkar would be able to identify us as intruders in two seconds flat.”

“So our hands are tied,” 76 says with a sigh.

“Not necessarily,” Hanzo says, holding up a placating hand. “Depending on what Lúcio manages to glean from her tablet, Satya may have left us a way in.”

“And you were goin’ to tell us this _when_?” McCree asks, and Hana doesn’t have to look to see the raised eyebrow.

“Nothing is guarantee,” Hanzo replies, neutral. “Lúcio said he would get back to us as soon as he found anything out.’

“The sooner the better,” 76 says.

“He is entertaining all day and barely has time for a break,” Hana says, shaking her head. “You cannot expect him to spend all of his free time on this.”

“It is for Satya, as well,” Hanzo adds. “He understands the need, but I would not be surprised if he was not entirely motivated.”

Hana frowns at the man. “That is not a fair representation of his character.”

“Perhaps not,” Hanzo says, and sweeps on, “Regardless, he may have something we can use once we begin scouting.”

“Speakin’ of which,” McCree says, “We should probably split up. Catchin’ just one of us at a time is less risky than all four of us.”

“And harder for us to keep track of each other if we get caught and need extraction. So no,” 76 says. “Team of two, at the very least.”

McCree levels 76 a significant look before flicking his eyes in Hanzo’s direction. Hana hears it loud and clear: _I am_ not _working with him._ Hanzo makes a scoffing noise under his breath, having missed nothing, and 76 just shakes his head. _I swear everyone in Overwatch is secretly an infant_ , Hana thinks, surprising all of them when she says, “I will go with Hanzo.”

“A wise choice,” Hanzo says with a hint of a smile, to which McCree scoffs but thankfully says nothing.

“If you’re sure,” 76 says with a nod. “Guess it’s you and me, Jesse.”

“Joy of joys,” McCree says sarcastically, and before 76 can respond to the barb, “So the plan is what, exactly? I’m thinkin’ we talk to people, but Vishkar places don’t seem like they’d have anything close to resembling a waterhole to get info.”

“We are going for a quick extraction,” Hanzo points out. “Why not simply interrogate a Vishkar employee?”

“Killing anyone is out of question,” 76 says firmly. He doesn’t miss the slightest shiver that goes up Hana’s spine, and he reaches over to pat the hand curled around his arm.

“That was not my intention,” Hanzo says presently. “We will obviously only knock them unconscious. By the time they awaken, we will hopefully be long gone.”

“You think it’ll set off any alarms?” McCree asks.

“Only one way to find out,” Hana says, and he barks out a laugh. Hanzo’s smile widens incrementally; Hana will take what she can get.

“Not exactly the attitude I had in mind,” 76 says, patting her hand with his. “Still, not like we have any better ideas unless Lúcio comes through.”

“The only problem is that it’s pretty late at night,” McCree says. “We’ll have a hard enough time finding someone to jump at all.”

“I doubt it will be difficult to figure out where Vishkar employees reside,” Hanzo says with a dismissive sound. “So long as we are all quiet, it would be child’s play to break in.”

“Even with the amount of security they’re bound to have?” 76 asks.

“A hurdle we will breach as necessary,” Hanzo answers, and Hana can’t help the small chuckle that springs from her throat.

“We’ll have to make peace with the fact that we’re going to be setting off tons of alarms,” 76 agrees, shaking his head. “So much for a stealth mission. Still, it’d be better if that happened near the tail end of the op, not at the very beginning.”

“Your faith is not misplaced,” Hanzo repeats, to which McCree rolls his eyes, and 76 merely shakes his head. Hanzo sounds amused as he says, “It will not be the first time I have done something like this.”

“And here I thought you couldn’t get any shadier,” McCree drawls.

“Do not test me, cowboy.”

McCree huffs out a laugh. “Right, because you murder the people who – ”

“ _McCree_.”

“Oh, shut up, Jack. Not like you would get it, seein’ as you didn’t see what he did to Genji.”

“On the contrary,” 76 shoots back, and McCree side-eyes him hard. “Bringing it up again and again won’t change anything, Jesse, and you know it.”

“Don’t mean I can’t guilt him to hell and back for it, though.”

“Believe me,” Hanzo says, and now his voice was deathly quiet, “You would not be the first. Let it be, Commander.”

“See? Even he’s tellin’ you to lay off, _Commander_.”

“It is amazing,” 76 says tightly, “How much and how little you’ve changed.”

“S’your own fault for traipsing off on your own for years. Y’know, not tellin’ us you weren’t dead.”

“Is there a reason you’re being this confrontational right now?” 76 asks, tensing up, and Hana tightens her grip around his arm. This time, it doesn’t seem to have any effect on his demeanor. “Because I’d rather sort this out sooner rather than later.”

“Naw,” McCree says. “Just the fact that I’m walkin’ along a road next to the murderer of one of my best friends.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite,” 76 says with a sardonic laugh. The Vishkar city looms up and ahead of them, the buildings stabbing into the sky in brilliant hues of white and blue. Hana stares, and she wonders how many were built atop the ashes of many.

“You do not need to defend me, Commander,” Hanzo says. It looks as though his face has been carved from stone, and Hana hums with the instinct to interrupt while her common sense tells her to stay quiet. “It was bound to come up sooner or later.”

“We’re in the middle of a mission, if you’ll recall,” 76 points out. “If we’re not going to get along, we might as well call it off right now.”

“ _No_ ,” Hanzo and Hana say at the same time with the exact same level of ferocity.

“See that? It’s motivation to not be an ass,” 76 says, glancing over at McCree, who smiles and shrugs nonchalantly. “So let’s just air it all out and then be on our way.”

“We don’t have time for that,” Hanzo says with a tight frown. “I am fairly sure his list of complaints is at least twenty pages long.”

“You wound me,” McCree drawls.

“Why is it we are having discussions like this right now?” Hana interrupts, releasing 76’s arm in favor of moving so she was directly in the center of their little group, stopping in their tracks as she turns to face them. She gives each man a sharp glance in turn as she speaks. “We have spent the past several minutes discussing things that happened in the past, and while that is all well and good, we have other things to focus on.”

( _One way or another, you are bringing us all together_ , Genji says. Hana bites her lip but holds her ground; she hates that he was right all along.)

“True,” Hanzo says after a moment.

“You just wanna get out of the conversation,” McCree laughs. There is nothing kind about it.

“Shut up,” Hana says, and when McCree raises an eyebrow she glares at Hanzo too. “You as well. Satya is in danger. I do not care if you two hate each other and want to kill each other, _we do not have time for this._ We have all made our choice to be a part of this team, and the last thing we need is to mess up somewhere and get one of us killed.”

She can pinpoint the exact moment that they read between the lines and determine, one way or another, that the raw bitterness in her voice comes from the pain of experience. _Not her squad but another’s_ , lost in the cold ice of winter because of a stupid mistake, a stupid comment, one stupid insult that pushed someone else over the brink; a scream, silenced in a blink, the awful crunch, the shouts over comm for a voice never to be heard again.

(She shudders.)

Satya is too important for this to mission to fail. Hana has a lot more than just a friend on the line; this is a chance to prove herself to herself, to prove D.Va wrong, to never leave anyone behind ever again. Her handler would call it a fatal flaw, but this is her choice and she will not fail.

( _So insecure_ , D.Va whispers mockingly. _You wouldn’t be who you are today without me._ )

( _You’re right,_ Hana answers, steely, icy, _I wouldn’t. And for that, you have my thanks._ )

It’s a long moment before anyone speaks again. “Can’t believe I’m takin’ orders from a nineteen-year-old,” McCree says with a dramatic sigh, and just like that, her ebbing rage is reignited in an instant.

“Do not belittle me,” Hana replies, stony.

“I would never,” McCree says with a crooked grin, hand over his heart, and Hana feels his condescension cut like a knife. 

“No?” She draws herself to her full height, and while she is still shorter than him, the intimidation factor is there. He isn’t cowed – far from it, he meets her gaze steadily, a challenge in the gleam of his amber irises, and she snarls, “I am a decorated officer and a world-renown combatant. I have led armies and fought against a God AI for over three years. I am more of a commander and soldier than you have ever been. Yet here we are, and you have the audacity bring up my age to render my experiences useless?”

McCree cast his gaze up to the stars and muttered, “Ain’t no way out, I swear to god,” followed by something in Spanish. D.Va skitters at the edges of Hana’s mind, and she clenches her hands into fists; she thought she had won her place here, but no – even now, her youthfulness called her entire career into question. If she wants any power at all, she thinks grimly, she’ll have to fight even harder to –

“Is it ‘beat up on Jesse McCree’ day?” 76 asks dryly, placing a hand on her shoulder, and almost reflexively Hana curls into herself, the burning clench of fury in her chest loosening.

“She has a point,” Hanzo says with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” McCree agrees, and Hana flashes him a mistrustful look. He stares back at her, expressionless. “’Course, goes against her lecture from before, but she’s right.”

“Shut up,” she says, and _why is she so angry?_ Then D.Va snickers in the back of her mind and oh, _oh_. It takes conscious effort to rein in her temper; _what does it matter what McCree thinks_ , especially when she knows that he does respect her as much as she respects him? She takes a few deep breaths, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth, before she says more quietly, “I apologize.”

“For chewin’ me out?” McCree says, and then adds, “You’re fine, Hana,” and it surprises her into silence.

“Either way, we have our plan of attack, I suppose,” 76 says, bluntly changing the subject. Hana is grateful for it; now that she’s tamped down on her emotions, she feels a little more embarrassed than righteous. “Split up, find a Vishkar personnel to point us the way, rendezvous and go in. We’ll figure out how exactly we’ll get inside once we have a better idea of the building we’ll be infiltrating.”

“Understood,” Hanzo says, and everyone is speaking far more softly now; they are within fifty meters of the city limits, and soon there will be enough light to illuminate them if they don’t tread carefully. “Hana, are you ready?”

“Always,” Hana says, though she still reaches down to graze her fingers over the comforting weight of her handgun at her hip.

“Let’s do this carefully,” 76 says. “Last thing we want is to end this before we begin.”

“Sure thing, Commander,” McCree says, sarcasm dripping, and that is, of course, when their comms crackle to life.

“ _This the ground squad in India?_ ”

“Lúcio?” 76 says, speaking for everybody as his hand rises to the side of head before dropping. He always forgets, Hana thinks fondly, as he ask, “You find something?”

“ _Actually, yeah,_ ” Lúcio says, and there’s a collective sharp intake of breath around her, “ _And it’s not what you think._ ”

“There is no way in?” Hanzo asks, and the four of them exchange glances while Hana’s heart sinks with disappointment.

“ _No,_ ” Lúcio says, and before anyone can ask, he adds, _“But that’s not the problem_.”

“That’s not cryptic at all,” 76 remarks dryly.

“ _Hear me out, man,_ ” Lúcio says, amused. “ _While I was going through Satya’s tablet, I decided to place a tracker on where Satya wrote the draft email that she had us see, just in case. It turns out that she sent it to herself – we thought she had saved it to her inbox and then left it open so we’d find it._ ”

“Meanin’?” McCree asks.

“ _Yeah, well, that’s the weird part – it shouldn’t matter. But when I tracked the location on where the email had sent, I got_ – ” and here there was a pause, presumably as Lúcio checked over the name again “ _– a hit from Dorado. In... Mexico._ ”

The silence that follows is deafening. Hana pulls out her phone just to check for herself, sending a quick text to Lúcio to send her the information, but it makes no difference when she sees it spill across her screen: a single dot in the continent of North America, and zooming in reveals a building in the town of Dorado.

“Why does this matter?” Hanzo says at last. “Satya could still very well be in – ”

“ _I know, I know, but this is where it gets weirder_ ,” Lúcio says. “ _Someone just logged in using her credentials, from the same place, on another tablet, a few minutes ago. This isn’t a coincidence._ ” He hesitates, and then he says, “ _So what I’m saying is that I don’t think Vishkar has her. I think she’s actually_ in _Dorado._ ”

“Why would she be there?” 76 asks, perplexed.

“ _I don’t know,_ ” Lúcio says, and he sounds frustrated. “ _I sent her an email through her tablet, though. She hasn’t responded yet, but I do know she’s opened it – either Vishkar is playing us somehow, or she’s actually there._ ”

“Pretty sure we should assume that Vishkar is trying to throw us off the trail,” McCree says.

“ _Athena and I have been monitoring Vishkar news feeds as best as we can without being caught_ ,” Lúcio says, and he lets out a whistle of an exhale. “ _And I know you’re skeptical, but – well, yeah. The more I see, the more I’m sure. Commander – Satya isn’t there. Vishkar doesn’t have her; someone else does._ ”

Another long silence. Hana’s heart has yet to stop racing, and she doesn’t realize she’s leaning heavily against 76 until he adjusts his grip so his arm sweeps across her shoulders.

“Then we go to Dorado,” Hanzo says at last, and he pivots on his heel, away from the city they had been so intent on entering. “If she is not here, then there is no point in wasting any more time.”

“Hold on now,” McCree says, lifting a hand as if to grab Hanzo and keep him from moving, dropping it back to his side just as quickly. “There’s still a chance that Vishkar is just leadin’ us on a chase. We can’t just assume right from the get-go.”

“ _We also assumed they would bring her to Vishkar’s home base,_ ” Lúcio says, “ _and that was no guarantee, either. Meaning there’s an equally big chance she’s not in the city you’re trying to enter. Whatever it is we have to lose, our odds are best in Mexico._ ”

“We’re sure about this?” 76 asks.

“ _As much as we can be, Agent Morrison,_ ” Athena says suddenly, calm, dulcet tones sweeping across the comm. “ _We will continue to monitor the situation, but I have calculated the odds of Satya being in Dorado to be significantly higher than in any other location. I suggest you move quickly._ ”

“Tracer and Winston are still en route to Siberia,” McCree notes, though by unsaid order all four of them have turned around to begin trekking back to their pickup area. “We’ll be stuck here for a bit.’

“ _I actually don’t think you’ll have to worry about that,_ ” Lúcio says, a tinge of satisfaction in his voice. “ _Tracer pinged me a couple of minutes ago to let me know that she’d be going back to India before heading off to Gibraltar. Not sure how she knew, but she should be there in a couple hours at most._ ”

(Hana remembers a discussion made over a table and wonders, but does not question.)

“If that’s the case, then we’ll go back and wait for her,” 76 decides. “Anything else we should know, Lúcio?”

“ _Can’t think of anything off of the top of my head, but I’ll let you know the second Athena and I figure out something else._ ” His words are punctured by a yawn, and then he says with a laugh, “ _If I stay awake that long, that is._ ”

“ _You need sleep,_ ” Ana says, clicking in without any warning. “ _Genji will take it from here._ ”

“ _I will? Oh, I guess I will. Very well. Off you go, Lúcio_.”

“ _I’m not a child – ow! Okay, I’m going, jeez. Night, everyone._ ”

“Kind as always, Genji,” Hanzo says, and his brother lets out a startled laugh and says something in Japanese, to which Hanzo responds in turn before he turns to the group. “He will alert us if Satya responds to Lúcio’s email. If nothing else, I suggest we keep moving.”

“ _Indeed. Best of luck, you four. Amari out._ ”

“Try not to get yourselves killed out there,” 76 says, a soft fondness leeching into his voice.

“ _Don’t worry, Commander, Lúcio_ _will be perfectly safe with us._ ”

“How convincing, brother,” Hanzo says dryly, and Genji laughs before he, too, clicks off.

“ _Safe travels, Agents_ ,” Athena says, and with that, the world around them fills with silence again. Hana dislikes it intensely, she’s decided.

“Now this is some unreal turnabout,” McCree says as they continue trekking back the way they came. “Good thing Lúcio figured this out before we actually went in.”

“The timing is a bit serendipitous,” 76 agrees, and then adds, “Makes me a bit uneasy, but I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“What does that even _mean_ ,” Hana whispers, mostly because she’s not quite aware of what’s going on, now that the adrenaline is fading away into something else. She’s tired, of course, she’s always tired, but – so close, yet so far. Within reach, and now –

( _Wasting time_ , D.Va mocks. _What’s happening in Siberia while you wait?_ and Hana pulls out her phone.)

* * *

[ccccc]: westernmost entrance down, moving to supplement youngblood  
[Stray]: Hold that thought, C5.  
[Stray]: Evie, Ω, Treason, any news?  
[EVIE]: Working on it  
[tReason]: help would be appreciated.  
[EVIE]: I’ll get back to you  
[ΩMEGA]: bit busy at the moment. could use some support.  
[Stray]: Lucky?  
[LuckyStars]: to where?  
[Stray]: Ω.  
[LuckyStars]: on it  
[Stray]: Youngblood, do you need support?  
[Youngblood]: we’re fine. your squad will be helpful but isn’t necessary  
[Stray]: Noted. C5, move to Treason’s position. Be ready to augment Ω if necessary.  
[ccccc]: got it  
[Stray]: Any losses so far?  
[CaerBaer]: Primality and cr01ss4nt are alive. Primality has hypothermia and frostbite and is currently en route to the main base. cr01ss4nt is waiting on their mech.  
[AbsOlitE]: Vox is out of mech after using self-destruct. She is in critical condition. We’re not sure if she’ll make it to the base.  
[Stray]: Shit. Noted.  
[Stray]: Anything else I should know?  
[Reynolds]: Recommendation: rocket boost MEKA inside entrances and initiate self-destruct sequences. Have someone else ready to fly you out of range.  
[AbsOlitE]: That’s what Vox did. It worked, but _get out of range_.  
[Stray]: Only do that if you’ve cleared it with the soldiers you’re working with. The last thing we want is tense relations with Russia.  
[Stray]: If everything is otherwise going fine, then I’ll get back to work. Hourly updates, remember. Heads up.  
[ccccc]: lead on stray  
[CaerBaer]: Drinks if we make it out alive?  
[LuckyStars]: only if you’re buying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i live! i know, i'm just as surprised as you. (and if someone comments that the fic itself lives, how many times do i have to tell you that i'm not abandoning this and even if i were to do so i would let you know?? i'm getting a little salty that y'all don't have faith in me lmao)
> 
> so hey, plot twist! wonder what's going on in dorado. i did mention new heroes last chapter, didn't i? intriguing, no?
> 
> also, if any of you have something to say about the very controversial thing i put in this chapter, hit me up on tumblr, fam. any comments on the piece itself will be ignored (or deleted, if the content is offensive). i am more than happy to discuss things with you, or at least i'm willing to be straightforward and nonconfrontational if you'll extend the same courtesy to me. cheers!
> 
> headcanons: 
> 
> \- reaper enjoys fucking with people when he does his misty thing, often popping behind people to startle them or traveling through the vents to appear in places he shouldn't be in/it should've taken him longer to get to  
> \- tracer wore crocs with socks once. emily had to sit her down and talk her out of it. it involved diagrams, charts, and a projector presentation  
> \- lúcio takes great pride in taking care of his hair, though he is constantly exasperated at how often he has to explain that his hairstyle doesn't just happen in an hour or less  
> \- zarya takes great pride in understanding how the particle cannon she wields actually works. as such, she is a terror on the field; she knows exactly how to use gravity to serve her purposes  
> \- 76 eats super unhealthily on the basis that his supersoldier enhancements make weight gain entirely arbitrary. most people who were in the SEP follow this mentality as well, much to the medical wing's collective dismay  
> \- pharah is a diehard hockey fan  
> \- symmetra's data management and organizational skills are legendary. many scientists would commit murder if it would give them a shot at having her manage their labs  
> \- torbjörn is an expert at tying knots. coincidentally, it took him a long time to learn how to braid his beard  
> \- mccree can say the alphabet backwards at the same speed one would say it forward. it's a skill he picked up for the sole purpose of passing as sober if he was ever pulled over in the u.s.a. sadly, he has had the opportunity to use this skill exactly 0 times  
> \- bastion can read and write  
> \- widowmaker's past as a ballet dancer leaves her with almost unearthly grace and poise. it is impossible to trip her and she can balance on just about any object she needs to, which is the only reason her sniping skills are legendary: you never know where she'll set up, because she can do so anywhere  
> \- zenyatta can sing along to any song that comes on the radio, which seems like an impressive skill until it dawns on everyone that he can just look up the lyrics to the song and follow along to the tune. it's still pretty cool, though  
> \- winston once ate the spoon he was using to scoop peanut butter. since then he uses his fingers only  
> \- genji and hanzo both dreamed of traveling all over when they were younger and confined to the Shimada estate. they both take full advantage of their freedom now to see the world, even if they have to be careful as they go  
> \- reinhardt hates coffee and also caffeine in general. he is a strong advocate of sleep and is the kind of morning person that gives morning people a bad name  
> \- mercy sticks post-it notes everywhere to remind her about things she needs to do. the mirror in her room is covered to the point it's not usable as a mirror anymore  
> \- ana has a soft spot for quill pens, letters, and calligraphy. she has a soft spot for the arts in general, actually, and likes to visit museums when she can  
> \- if there is an end in sight, hana song can't see it


	71. OPERATION: TRUTH (part 3 of 6)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where there's one familiar face, there's also one unfamiliar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at me being on schedule! amazing, i know. don't get used to it, haha! (jk. well, i hope at least ;o; depends on how badly college decides to kick my ass in the coming weeks.) 
> 
> this was largely unbeta'd, so apologies for typos and the usual. thank you for understanding orz
> 
> i hope you have a lovely and awesome day today!

There’s a strange, anxious lull that permeates their little group as they wait for Tracer to arrive. Hana tunes out any and all conversation by intently studying her phone, tracking casualties throughout the conversations with the pensive focus only fear can bring (there are none so far, to her relief, at least none from MEKA); she barely looks up until the Thunderbird hums into view, and even then, she stares down at her screen as she hops into her mech and urges it forward into the plane itself. Tracer is waiting with a pinched smile, hands on her hips as she leans out to greet them.

“Fancy meetin’ you here,” McCree says to her as Hana tromps past, tucking her mech into a corner of the cargo bay before slipping out of it and into a seat.

“Surprise!” Tracer says with a grin. It looks almost forced, and her voice, while chipper, has a note of exhaustion to it. If she’s tired, though, she shows no sign of it, spinning on her heel and tossing over her shoulder, “Had a feeling something would happen. Glad I came when I did, yeah?”

“We appreciate it,” Hanzo says, and Tracer shoots him a terribly neutral look and oh yes, Hana remembers that she’s not at all fond of Genji’s brother, either.

“Least I could do, what with what’s going on in Siberia,” Tracer replies in the meantime, blinking towards the cockpit of the aircraft. Her voice clicks over the intercom system a moment later, as McCree palms the cargo doors shut and they all settle into their seats. “ _Try to get some rest, loves! You’ve got a lot of action coming your way._ ”

“If you say so, Lena,” 76 says, shaking his head when Tracer laughs and chirps _I do!_ “What’s our ETA?”

“ _Anywhere from three to five hours, depending on how much I break international laws._ ”

“You always break the laws,” McCree points out, grinning.

Tracer giggles. “ _You know me! Tracer’s the name, speed’s my game._ ”

“Just don’t get us caught,” 76 says, a smile apparent in his voice.

“ _Have some faith, Commander._ ” The Thunderbird hums to life as Tracer urges it to lift, and then she laughs into the comm and says, “ _And the cavalry’s on their way!_ ”

( _Not nearly fast enough_ , D.Va murmurs, and Hana is inclined to agree.)

“Think I’m gonna do as the lady suggests and get some shut-eye,” McCree says, and when Tracer titters on the intercom, he rolls his eyes and pushes himself to his feet. “Anyone else want a blanket?”

“Please,” Hanzo says, 76 echoing him a moment later.

“I’ll just get one for each of us,” McCree says when Hana doesn’t speak. No surprise, really; she’s still staring down at her phone, scrolling up and up to catch up on the things she’s missed.

* * *

[ GENERAL CHAT ]

[Primality]: made it to base and i’m stable enough to rejoin the fight  
[Stray]: Don’t rush in until the doctors give the go-ahead. The last thing we want is for a wound to reopen.  
[Primality]: they have overwatch’s head medic here and she got me patched up really fast, i’m pretty sure i’m fine. be there soon  
[Stray]: Very well, as long as you’re certain. Any word on Vox before you go?  
[Primality]: no  
[AbsOlitE]: Really? There’s nothing?  
[Primality]: not anything good i mean  
[AbsOlitE]: ... She will be remembered.  
[CaerBaer]: Her mech has been recovered, if that’s any consolation.  
[AbsOlitE]: I will inform her family as such. Thank you.  
[CaerBaer]: Least we could do. Stray, you want us anywhere?  
[Stray]: Stick with extraction duty. One of the Russian sergeants told me that they could use your squad’s skills to rescue their own soldiers. I’ll put you in contact with her.  
[CaerBaer]: Understood.  
[takes22tango]: Incoming leviathan or whatever we’re calling the big ones now. Support requested.  
[tlaloques]: we just finished up, our squad and lucky’s can meet up with them  
[Stray]: Got it. Ω, I’ll ping you the coordinates.  
[ΩMEGA]: understood. tlaloques, with me.  
[tlaloques]: aye aye  
[EVIE]: We’ve got a leviathan too or at least it’s really big and fights long-distance. We need a distraction so we can go up and destroy it  
[Stray]: Lucky, can you do that?  
[LuckyStars]: we’re built for mobility so probably  
[Stray]: Right. Go to Evie’s location, then. Her squad is just east of you.  
[LuckyStars]: understood. on the move  
[Stray]: Westernmost entrance is down, along with the eastern entrance a few kilometers west of Evie’s position. That leaves two entrances before we can push into the main one.  
[Stray]: Keep it up, people. We’re halfway there.

* * *

[ SQUAD LEADER CHAT ]

[Stray]: Absolite, I’ll let the Boss know about Vox.  
[Stray]: Not that it matters at this point.  
[EVIE]: I don’t suppose they’ve come their senses yet?  
[Stray]: Unfortunately, no.  
[tReason]: if only d.va was here. they listened to her, usually.  
[Youngblood]: like it would’ve helped at this point. boss is too far gone  
[Stray]: Let’s not jump to conclusions. I’m sure there’s a reason for it.  
[Stray]: While we’re at it, roll call.  
[ΩMEGA]: still just me and tlaloques, but we’re alive.  
[EVIE]: Once cr01ss4nt rejoins us, my squad is accounted for  
[CaerBaer]: My squadmates are all here.  
[reynolds]: We're all here.  
[Youngblood]: squad is accounted for  
[ccccc]: still here cap  
[Stray]: I’m not a captain.  
[Stray]: Any updates?  
[CaerBaer]: Ω, we found naiad and downtown. Do you want us to...  
[ΩMEGA]: i would appreciate it.  
[CaerBaer]: ... There’s not much of them left.  
[ΩMEGA]: i understand.  
[ΩMEGA]: please bring back what you can.  
[CaerBaer]: As you say.  
[Stray]: Everyone, please be careful. Don’t take risks, and if you have to, get the Russians to do it in your stead.  
[AbsOlitE]: That sounds slightly unethical.  
[Stray]: It is, but those are my orders. Do everything you can to keep yourselves and your squad alive.  
[Stray]: And for those we have lost – we’ll toast them after we’ve won.

* * *

( _So steady. So sure. Where is your courage?_ )

( _Shut up_ , Hana whispers, defeated. So much for no casualties.)

(D.Va merely laughs, soft and foreboding. Somehow, it’s worse than scorn.)

* * *

[ 밈시티 ]

[MIM]: out of mech retreating as fast as i can  
[MIM]: watch your flanks, they’ve got stealth bots  
[MIM]: fucking impossible to discern them from the snow in this weather, make sure not to leave your six undefended  
[Youngblood]: apple cover mim  
[AppleCIder]: can’t. with tango. not even close to his location rn.  
[Youngblood]: shit. ok i’m on it  
[MIM]: don’t fuck it up this time a backstab is going to kill me  
[Youngblood]: you want cover or not dipshit?  
[takes22tango]: We don’t have time for this. Focus, people. Let the Russians deal with them.  
[takes22tango]: Moving in for a self-destruct sequence. Apple?  
[AppleCIder]: right behind you and the russians have been informed. don’t die on us, mim.  
[MIM]: i’m more likely to freeze to death than get shot  
[MIM]: ha! and that brings back memories, shame d.va isn’t here  
[Youngblood]: this is your fault for letting a stealth bot get close enough  
[MIM]: wow ok could you please just shut up for once in your goddamn life

* * *

[ 흩어진전쟁개 ]

[ccccc]: locke push left, i’m right behind you  
[10JQK]: no don’t do that there’s incoming bastion squad, stand behind me  
[ccccc]: oh shit ok. watching your six locke  
[LockE]: Moments like these, I wish I’d upgraded my defense matrix too.  
[10JQK]: it’s more about your apm than anything else ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ  
[ccccc]: and it’s not like like you’d give up your bombs for anything  
[LockE]: Ha! Fair points.  
[10JQK]: ok it’s going to reload in three, two, one GO  
[ccccc]: CHARGE  
[LockE]: Stay close to me, C5.

* * *

A hand reaches out and covers her phone’s screen; a glance up and of course it’s 76, and in her brief distraction McCree throws a blanket over her, thin and dusty and a faded, ugly orange. The phone drops to her lap as she flails her hands to free herself from the cloth and wrap it around her, and then she bites her lip and looks over at 76. He’s studying her, that much she can tell even with the visor, but he’s waiting to see what her decision will be.

It’s not a hard one to make: _no distractions_. Satya’s life is on the line. She picks up her phone from where it lies on her lap and wordlessly presents it to him, and 76 takes it and puts it into a pocket of his jacket, not out of reach but out of sight for now.

( _And now you don’t have to acknowledge that you failed them_ , D.Va whispers.)

( _You’re supposed to_ help _me_ , Hana says despairingly.)

( _Where is your strength, Hana Song?_ D.Va says. _You chose this. You owned it. Where is your certainty?_ )

(D.Va is pushing her for reasons she can’t begin to guess. Hana tells her, _Why do you undermine me?_ )

( _Because no one else will_ , D.Va says, and there’s a truth in that that aches in Hana’s chest, for who doubts her more than herself?)

“Try to get some sleep,” 76 says to her.

“Only if you do as well,” Hana answers, which earns her a resigned chuckle. Still, she waits until he nods and gestures to her before she scoots a few seats over and lies down across them, using 76’s leg as a pillow and turning to face the wall. The earplugs in her pocket are stiff from time but usable, though she’s careful not to displace her comm, and it’s with a deep breath and a quiet wish for courage that she closes her eyes.

* * *

Hana doesn’t dream often, no; instead she has nightmares, endless and hopeless. They’ve gotten better with time, in that they don’t plague her as often or as relentlessly as they once did, but they are the ever-present threat in the night – and she is thusly surprised when her dream places her in an open field of green and flowers.

The sky is blue and cloudless. There is wind, and birdsong, and Hana carefully pivots on her heel, turning a full circle to take in the scene around her. Further away is a luminous forest on one side, a bright and beautiful city on the other. Straight ahead is a worn, dirt path. Its destination is unclear, leading into the sunlit horizon.

It’s peaceful – and as Hana has never once gotten reprieve since that fateful day at sixteen, she is wary as she begins to walk.

The scene changes, slowly, the way dreams always seem to change: without notice nor alarm, simply merging from one place to another, lilting and lethargic. The field fades. In its place erupt broken stone and plaster with soundless clarity, and Hana slows when she finds herself in the broken bones of a house, torn asunder with giant, sweeping strokes, wooden floors groaning under her weight as she picks her way through the rubble. Above her is the skeleton of a shattered skyscraper, tilted to the point of dizziness, and all around her the place has been picked clean. If there were homes here once, they’ve long since packed up and gone.

 _Busan_ : a proud, powerful city where she had once been slated to perform, and here she treks through its despondent grave. _The best decisions are often the hardest ones_ , D.Va whispers, and it echoes like an ebbing tide in the space around her. Hana stares up at the blue, blue sky and doesn’t answer, letting her feet carry her forward.

A shift, and it’s a battlefield by the sea. It’s snowing, but she doesn’t feel the cold, and it’s windy, but it brushes past her like she’s not there. There is no nightmarish quality to this, somehow; it’s a simple statement of what has been lost, and Hana ducks her head to look at the frost at her feet before sweeping her gaze upwards to the dark gray clouds above. Though she knows the giant omnic in the ocean is biding its time on the seafloor, she cannot summon even a mild sense of trepidation as she takes a single step forward.

She fought the omnic for the first time here, sixteen and terrified and fearless all at once, and even now she knows that she would gladly throw her life at the monstrosity if it meant the survival of her people. Such is the burden she has chosen to take, such is the burden she will always bear, and she stares at the gaping sea in front of her with the knowledge that lethality lurks in its depths. For now it roils only with only the weather and not the bloodlust of a god, and she takes comfort in that as she turns a slow circle.

There is a splatter of frozen red further down. Her breath comes out in a smooth exhale as she goes closer, and it’s with regret, dark and welling, that she crouches to look more closely.

There had been losses, here. _Føxtrøt – Hyun. EnPartie - Siyeon._ They hadn’t been in her squad but they had been her friends, and when she had rallied MEKA around her they had been the first to respond – and the first to die. _Totallee – Yoochan. Kaykaekai – Soohee._ Her fault, she knows, and she remembers their names as a grim reminder of the responsibilities she carries, two stripes on each cheek for their lives. She had failed them, and there is nothing left she can do about it.

 _Never leave our own behind_ , D.Va murmurs for her ears alone, and Hana closes her eyes. She remembers how strikingly cold it was here – how being forced out of mech meant a battle of life and death against hypothermia and frostbite, a desperate search for cover on the wide expanse of beach, the seconds ticking down if you fell into the ocean itself. This was when they learned they needed mechs devoted entirely to extraction and speed, and this was when Hana first learned what a slow death sounded like, what a slow death looked like.

(It’s teeth chattering and stuttering voices and not screams, never screams, but words rattling with fear and loss. It’s the icy certainty in your heart that _this is the end_ , and it’s the cold reality that there is nothing you can do about it. It’s watching someone’s lips turn blue, watching their tears freeze on their skin, watching as hope cracks and falls and leaves an empty husk in its wake.)

(Death is not always merciful, but it is not without pity: they felt no pain, at least.)

She would come here again someday. There were ghosts wandering the frozen wasteland if one cared to look, but when she whispers her promise and opens her eyes, she is somewhere else – an empty house, a silent place, a tall, dark mansion that has nothing for her but yawning loneliness. _Home_ , she thinks, _or what’s left of it._ If her father were around, his footsteps would step light and staccato in his study, ceasing at precisely twenty-two hours – but she can’t hear anything. She is alone, just as it had always been, and the fact her dreams reflect her reality with such precision is, perhaps, a marvel of her own mental strength.

It doesn’t feel that way, though. Her strength comes from determination and willpower and the competitive drive to _win_ , and if one stripped it all away, she would be – a girl. _I play to win_ , D.Va whispers, but that’s all she would be, just as she was here in this mansion: a lonely girl with a guarded spirit and a weary soul, one with no skills to her name except sharp eyes and sharp hands and sharp words. They serve her well, now, but back then, those well-earned talents felt contrite and foolish and she always wondered what was meant for her.

She’s no fool; she knows how lucky she is to come from a wealthy family, how her crushing isolation left her to become as good at _Starcraft_ as she is. The Song mansion and fortune has done a lot for her and her future, and as she stares up at the portrait of her and her father that dominates the main hall, she knows that it can’t do anything more. This was a home that never cared for her, and though it had taken her a long time to accept that, there’s only so many months that can go by in MEKA before realizing that the letter from her father would never come.

She takes a step, and this time she watches the world whirl and spin around her to show the cramped, stark MEKA barracks. A smile lifts the corner of her lips; _this_ was a place she could remember fondly, at least after Basic, at least after the first battles, at least after she and her squad bonded over their plight.

She remembers the catastrophic disaster after the first battle against the omnic, how Mim had raged and Apple had sat down and remained motionless for hours and Tango had bawled – when she had gathered them together and they had had a sleepover and they were cracked but not broken, not yet. They had held each other together from sheer force of will, as the days turned to weeks turned to months; Mim focused his rage to good use, Apple moved even when it hurt her, and Tango never cried again. And Hana – Hana had crafted and finetuned and worked so hard that she didn’t recognize how integrated D.Va was in her life until it had happened.

Such as it was – home, that is. Tango and Mim and Apple – the only squad to have survived three years without a single loss. She’s proud of that. She will continue to be proud of that. Her friends are what made this place somewhere she would return to, given the chance.

But now they’re in Siberia, and she isn’t. Her family is gone, and she is alone, and –

 _No_ , D.Va says, and reminds her softly, _You are always welcome to stay with me_.

In an instant, she is there: kitchen lit with soft apricity, gentle words and a gentle heart, and she remembers and when she breathes in, her dreamscape breathes with her, vivid and colorful and bright. Hope has forever been her guide, and it has been so long since she could feel its warmth like sunlight across her skin. She has a place in the world, and it is horribly easy to forget it.

Someday, Hana thinks, she’ll be able to tell 76 how much he and everyone in Overwatch have changed her life. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to repay them. She’s not sure where she would even start, and she’s not sure if - 

“Why are you helping me now?” Hana asks, addressing the – the sky again. She’s in the flower field, soft yellows and whites and blues and pinks, and she wonders if she’s ever been in a place like this before once upon a time.

For a few seconds, only the wind brushing past her cheeks fills the silence. It feels like a ruse, somehow, like she’s supposed to be somewhere else, like what she’s supposed to see is being hidden by the curtain of this meadow. She shouldn’t be here – her sleep should be restless and her heart pounding in her chest – and it occurs to her that the fact she is uneasy because she is not having nightmares is _not_ a good thing.

And then she answers.

 _I do not agree with your decisions,_ D.Va whispers, _but you are me, and I am you. What is killing you is killing me, too._ Her voice is soft, contemplative. _I have moments of rest. You do not._

 _Oh_ , Hana thinks, and then spoken, softly, “Oh,” and she wonders how Dr. Ziegler would classify this. _Extreme disassociation_ , the doctor had told her before, _to the point that you have created an entirely separate persona to adopt in times of duress. Not dissociative identity disorder._ “So you will stop doubting me when I am awake?”

 _I push when it is needed_ , D.Va says. _Nothing more, nothing less._

“Why?”

 _You made me, Hana_ , D.Va says, and that is the first time D.Va has ever said her name in such a way, matter-of-fact and solid, the first time they’ve ever had a discussion like this, and Hana can only stare at the endless blue, wide-eyed, as D.Va adds carelessly, _How should I know?_

* * *

She wakes without fanfare, and there’s a moment of brief disorientation before she realizes that the lights in the plane are off. Tracer is apparently quite intent on making sure they get rest, and when Hana gingerly reaches over to pluck her phone from 76’s jacket pocket, she sees that just around three hours have passed. She could go back to sleep, but – no, she decides, and sits up carefully so as to not disturb 76 from where he sits, neck braced against the wall, arms crossed.

She looks at him for a few moments before standing up and reaching over to resettle the blanket more securely over his shoulders. He is so much more than she is, larger than life in ways she has yet to classify, but here he is just a man – a man who has been more of a father to her than her own ever was. Even as he rests his brow is creased, and as she steps back, heart heavy, she wonders if he, too, is plagued by the nightmares that doggedly pursue her in sleep.

A brief hesitation, and then she walks over and tucks Hanzo’s blanket more securely around him – but when she turns to McCree to complete the her circle around the cargo bay, he gives her a tiny wave, smiling slightly. He never misses anything, Hana reflects, nodding back at him before he tucks his chin towards his chest and his eyes close again, and with nowhere else to go, she turns to the light from the cockpit and makes her way towards it.

Tracer is talking quietly as she approaches, and she pauses for a moment before continuing upwards. As much as she is loath to interrupt the pilot’s conversation, she is curious as to how much time is left before their arrival. In and out, she decides, and when she pokes her head into the room, she sees that Tracer has a holographic screen pulled up onto the display as she leans back in the pilot’s chair, legs resting on the controls and hands folded behind her back. The picture of relaxation, or so it appears – Tracer notices her almost instantly.

“Oh, hi, Hana!” A moment later she’s swinging her legs down as she spins in her chair, and she casts a brief grin over her shoulder as she says, “Just a tick, Emily, someone’s come up.”

“Just like you said, huh?” a woman laughed – presumably Emily.

Hana only has a split second to parse that before Tracer speaks up again, and it’s soon forgotten when the pilot asks her, “Didja get any sleep, love?”

“Some,” Hana says, and then peers over Tracer’s shoulder. On the holographic projection is a redheaded woman, pretty and slim and freckled, and Hana says hesitantly, “This is Emily, then?”

“That’s me!” the woman says, smiling brightly, matching Tracer to a tee. She looks to be in an apartment, clad in soft pajamas and a scarf tossed carelessly over her shoulders, and she’s so painfully a civilian that Hana swallows hard. _These are the kinds of people I am sworn to protect_. “Lena’s told me about you. I watched one of your streams the other week, too.”

 _Game face on_ , D.Va thinks, and Hana grins back. “It is always nice to meet a fan.”

Tracer picks up on what she’s doing in half an instant, if the frown is any indication; she doesn’t comment on it, though, because Emily nods and says, “I wasn’t sure if I’d like it at first, but you’re very engaging! Your mods are so efficient, too. The whole chat was a lot cleaner than I expected.”

“I do not know what I would do without them,” Hana agrees, and moments later she almost reels with a sudden shot of clarity: she regrets coming up here. She can’t fake being happy for very long, nor does she have any desire to carry on this farce, and so she turns to Tracer and gets to business. “I came up to ask how much longer we have until we arrive at our destination, actually. I did not mean to intrude.”

“Never do, love,” Tracer assures her, eyes sharp and knowing, and then she says, “We’ve got an hour and half, tops. If you can manage another nap, I’d recommend it.”

Hana nods, turns to leave, hesitates. There are a million questions she wants to ask about time and how Tracer seems to _know_ , but Tracer is chatting with her girlfriend and it would be out of place no matter when she brings it up; to that end, she merely shakes her head slightly and turns around to wave. “It was nice meeting you, Emily.”

“Same to you, D.Va!” Emily replies, and Hana feels a sweeping sense of dread and warmth all at once as she grins back, moving back down towards the cargo hold. D.Va is silent, though, as she returns back into the darkness and her grin drops in an instant; _small mercies,_ and 76’s head turns towards her as she tiptoes back to his side. Of course he’d woken up when she’d left, and she gives him a tightlipped smile.

“Everything alright?” he asks in a low rumble, and when she tilts her head quizzically at him, he taps the pocket where her phone had once been. She’d forgotten about it and the chatrooms, and she shrugs as she fishes it out of her own pocket and hands it back, slipping into the spot next to him. When she doesn’t say anything, he nudges her shoulder with his. “You good?”

“Not now,” Hana murmurs with a shake of her head, and 76 simply nods and changes the subject.

“What’s Lena up to?”

“She is talking to her girlfriend,” Hana says, and then adds, “We have an hour and a half before we arrive.”

76 grunts in assent. “Think you can sleep more?”

“No,” Hana answers honestly, “But I will try anyway.”

He nods and she settles into the same position as before, rolling to lay on her back to take the weight off of her arm, earplugs rolling between her fingers as she pulls the orange blanket up to her shoulders. 76 leans back again as she closes her eyes, if only just to doze.

Now that she’s paying attention, she can hear Tracer’s voice echoing in the craft alongside Emily’s, and she’s struck with a sudden, terrible longing for – something like home. To her right this moment, 76 and everyone else is home, but there’s a subtle beauty in being with people who _understand_. Meeting Emily brings it all back, how her MEKA friends know better than anyone what this feels like, how those who have never faced a God AI will never truly understand what it means to be someone like her.

“No distractions,” she breathes, too quietly for 76 to pick up on it, and she slips the earplugs into place. MEKA can wait. They will conquer in Siberia on their own, and Stray will let her know if the Boss becomes more of a problem than they already are. Overwatch will keep them updated if anything happens, and she trusts in her squadmates to do well and stay well. “Seventy-six,” she says softly after a moment, lifting her chin slightly, her eyes looking up towards his face.

“Yeah?”

“What will we do if Satya is not there?”

76 doesn’t say anything right away. When he does, his voice is heavy. “We’ll keep looking.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know,” 76 says. “Depends on how long Winston can spare us.” One of his hands lifts and then settles on her forehead, brushing her hair away from her eyes. It’s so strikingly parental that her lungs constrict for a moment, and the repeated motion lulls her into drowsiness far more quickly than she ever could’ve anticipated. “I think we can trust Lúcio’s info, though. He hasn’t led us astray before.”

  
([click here for larger size](http://68.media.tumblr.com/7624e7581621519caf3598cbaec28bc9/tumblr_omny88TCxj1skoy7ho2_1280.png))

“He hasn’t been around long enough to do that,” Hana points out.

“True,” 76 concedes with a quiet laugh. He lets out a thoughtful hum soon after. “There’s no way we can know what we’ll be facing, but Lena seems certain. We have no other leads, either way.”

“But what if she is with Vishkar?”

“What if she is?” 76 counters. “You don’t need me to answer that.” He’s right; she doesn’t. She can imagine the consequences easily enough on her own, and she turns her head just slightly so that his fingers run through a different section of her hair. “Whatever the case, we did what we could, Hana. Sometimes, that has to be enough.”

“I know,” she says. She does.

“Get some rest,” he says.

“Only if you do, too.” He huffs a single amused laugh as she closes her eyes, hands flat at her sides, time weighing down like a physical pressure on her body. The thought of sleeping when there are plans to be made stresses her out to no end, but she knows that she will need to be ready for whatever is awaiting them in Dorado. Rest will help with that, whether she likes it or not, and with that in mind she breathes in deeply through her nose, exhales slowly through her mouth, and forces the tension in her muscles to uncoil.

* * *

_You know_ , D.Va says, _it is funny how, despite everything, you are the most optimistic and driven person in Overwatch._

“How is it funny?” Hana asks, idly kicking at the ground beneath her swing as it passes by.

 _Perhaps that is not the right word,_ D.Va concedes. _Regardless, you deserve more credit for what you do._

“I am already an international idol. What more recognition could I possibly get?”

 _An appreciation for all that you have sacrificed, for starters,_ D.Va says, and it would be nice, really. It would.

* * *

“Hana, get up.”

“M’up,” she says, sitting up without opening her eyes right away. A moment later the dizziness fades and she’s able to open her eyes and swing her legs over to plant her feet on the ground. McCree and Hanzo are already moving around the cargo bay, and 76 waits until she’s pushed herself to a standing position before heaving himself to his feet. She tugs the earplugs out of her ears and stuffs them into her pocket as she asks, “Are we there?”

“ _Nearly_ ,” Tracer says over intercom. “ _Fifteen minutes to the drop, if Athena’s scans don’t change in that span of time._ ”

“Got some other good news, too,” McCree says. “You wanna tell ‘em, Genj?”

“ _Symmetra responded to the email,_ ” Genji says on cue, voice slightly scratchy through the comm. The distance between them is nothing to scoff at, and it’s a sign of Athena’s capabilities and resources that he filters in so well at all. “ _She confirms that she is in Dorado, and that she is not in Vishkar custody. As proof, she has provided files from her prosthetic arms, which Athena has cross-checked with our databanks._ ”

“How do we know that is legitimate?” Hana asks. “Vishkar could easily fabricate the information to trick us.”

“ _We have considered that,_ ” Athena says. “ _You are correct: it is not foolproof. However, the cadence and style of the email are identical to what Agent Vaswani would use. If I may opine?_ ”

“When has our say-so ever stopped you?” 76 says, and then, quickly, “Don’t answer that.”

“ _Of course, Commander._ ” She sounds amused. “ _The odds are good, Agent Song. Regardless of what happens here, please keep in mind that none of this is your fault._ ”

“Thanks, Athena,” Hana says automatically, even though the words make her smile. She knows that, even if her mind will spin it beyond the scope if this fails.

“ _Ah, and Symmetra – presumably, at least – has also pinged us her location,_ ” Genji cuts in. “ _She is in an abandoned Los Muertos warehouse. She suggested that Commander Morrison would be familiar with it._ ”

“Not your commander,” 76 growls. A moment later he asks, “How would she know about that?”

“ _Beats me,_ ” Genji says. “ _Suppose you’ll find out when you meet her._ ”

Everyone is so certain. Hana would take comfort in that, but for now, she’s focused more on the fact that Satya is so close. _But what if she isn’t?_ she thinks, and then she thinks about the fact that this might all be a trick and they’re going to be walking right into an ambush, and then she wishes she could just stop thinking about it and she tunes back into the conversation.

“So I go first,” McCree says, and nods. “Then Jack, then Hana bringin’ up the rear, and Hanzo up high to keep an eye out. Do we know the entry points?”

“Yes,” 76 says, and Hana focuses her attention on the holographic projection of presumably the warehouse. He points to specific points at the warehouse’s walls. “There’s a front and back door, along with some emergency side exits. No windows. If there’s a roof exit, I don’t know where it would be.”

“It is doubtful,” Hanzo says. “If there was one, it would likely make more noise to enter than by entering through the doors. If there is an ambush, they will expect us to enter through the back or sides.” He points to one side of the warehouse. “There is an alleyway on this side, which will funnel all personnel into a narrow space. This is our best chance.”

“What’s the time in Dorado?” 76 asks.

“ _Half past twenty hours,_ ” Athena says promptly.

“There will be plenty of people around, then,” 76 concludes. “Not to mention we’ll be neck-deep in Los Muertos territory. If there’s going to be an ambush, we need to be careful to leave civilians out of it.”

There’s something going unsaid there, Hana can tell by the way 76 shifts once he finishes speaking. She doesn’t comment on it, though; not her place, and he would tell her if he thought it was important.

“ _Getting close now_ ,” Tracer says in the meantime. “ _Make sure you’ve got everything you need._ ”

“Will there be a secure spot to put my mech?” Hana asks.

“ _Don’t worry about it, love. I’ll make sure it gets placed somewhere out of the city limits._ ”

“How are you going to move – ”

“ _I have my ways,_ ” Tracer says, mischief apparent in her voice.

“She’ll probably just topple it and roll it,” McCree explains, and when Tracer yelps in protest Hana nods. It was a perfectly valid way of moving the mech, seeing as it wasn’t a delicate thing that couldn’t be shoved around, and McCree raises his voice and calls, “She’s fine with it, Lena. Just do whatever you need to.”

“Within reason,” Hana adds.

“ _Have some faith_ ,” Tracer scoffs. “ _I’m not going to_ break _it._ ”

“Focus, people,” 76 interrupts. “Everyone know what the plan is?”

“We’re gonna stick out like a sore thumb,” McCree says. “But yeah. Touch down, get out, walk to the warehouse and hopefully don’t get caught by Los Muertos in the process, kick down the doors and see what’s what.”

“I thought it was a warehouse that Los Muertos had abandoned,” Hana says.

“ _That’s what Symmetra said_ ,” Genji says, and Hana had completely forgotten he was still listening over comm. “ _But it’s still in Los Muertos territory, so. She has faith in the Commander’s knowledge to sneak by unnoticed._ ”

“How _do_ you know, Commander?” Hanzo asks, tilting his head. “About this gang, that is.”

“Winston mentioned that Soldier: Seventy-six was in Dorado, remember?” 76 says, and then he puffs out a short sigh. “Honestly. If you’d looked at my file, you would’ve seen it.”

“There are not many details about it,” Hanzo says. “I merely assumed an altercation. I did not think that you might’ve been otherwise watching their patrol routes.”

“Yeah, well, didn’t go as planned, and we’ll see how much I know is still accurate,” 76 says in a tone that screams _drop the subject_. “In any case, it’s better to be safe rather than sorry. I don’t want to rely solely on what I figured out by watching.”

“ _Sixty seconds, loves!_ ” Tracer says. “ _Hope you’re ready. I’ve got us hovering over a lagoon near the town, only a few minutes before someone gets suspicious, so you’ve gotta move when I say so._ ”

“Gotcha,” McCree says, moving towards the cargo bay doors. Hanzo picks up his bow case before following, and Hana takes her purse and stuffs her handgun into it as 76 slings the bag holding his rifle over his back. “Man, that reminds me, never did go out in Gibraltar and actually go to the beach. Should fix that once the thing in Siberia works itself out.”

“Don’t get distracted,” 76 says, just as Hana is about to slip her phone into her purse, and she hesitates for one brief second before sliding it out of her pocket and taking a look. There are forty notifications from Tango, and her heart drops into her stomach.

[takes22tango]: It isn’t your fault.  
[takes22tango]: It isn’t your fault.  
[takes22tango]: It isn’t your fault  
[takes22tango]: it isn’t your fault.  
[takes22tango]: it isn’t your fault  
[takes22tango]: it isn’t your fault  
[takes22tango]: it isnt your fault.  
[takes22tango]: It isn’t yuor fault.  
[takes22tango]: it isn’t your fualt  
[takes22tango]: it isnt your fault  
[takes22tango]: iti snt your fualt  
[takes22tango]: it isnt

  
([click here for larger size](http://68.media.tumblr.com/01796ddddc503de846fae98abc4c676e/tumblr_omny88TCxj1skoy7ho1_1280.png))

(D.Va is silent. Hana takes in a shuddering breath. She has no idea what this means, but – _what about Mim, did they and Apple ever manage to –_ )

“Hana, let’s go,” 76 says, noticing her phone is back in her hands. She’s not sure what her face looks like, but a moment later his voice softens and he says, “We don’t have time, Hana, I’m sorry. Whatever is happening in Siberia has to wait.”

( _It is not your fault,_ D.Va murmurs, and Hana swallows hard.)

“Right,” she says, stuffing her phone into the bag as she blindly follows 76 when he begins to walk. “No distractions,” she tells herself, quietly, and with that she shakes her head to clear it and takes a place next to Hanzo, who spares her a swift nod.

“ _Doors opening!_ ” Tracer shouts, and McCree is the first to go, leaping out and landing lightly on his feet. Hanzo soon follows and Hana hops down after him, the sand jarring her ankles even as she bends her knees on impact, and then 76 lands behind her and Tracer says through comm, “ _Good luck! I’ll be hanging around here for a while if you need a quick evac, but only for a few hours. Gibraltar calls._ ”

“Understood,” 76 says, and then he looks over their motley crew as the airship lifts away, not loud but definitely not quiet, and says, “I’m on point, at least for now. Jesse, watch our sixes.”

“You got it,” McCree says, and when they set off at a light trot, soon abandoning the beach for a more grassy, woodsy field, the adrenaline starts to kick in and Hana can almost forget the phone in her pocket.

(A lie, of course. It’s a burning weight over her shoulder, and she keeps a white-knuckled grip around the strap of her purse.)

* * *

Dorado is a quaint city, somehow, despite boasting a futuristic power plant; it still maintains a sense of tradition and mimics the housing style from decades ago, and Hana sticks close to 76 as the unfamiliar Spanish rolls over her ears. At this time of night there aren’t many people about, fortunately, and any of the shadier people slinking about give them a wide berth. Not surprising, given the sharp-eyed look McCree has on his face and the way Hanzo glares at anyone who stares for too long, but Hana worries nonetheless.

76 has removed his visor for the time being, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket. She hadn’t noticed when he’d switched out his vigilante jacket for a more unassuming black one – probably sometime when she’d been asleep – but he looks much older when she can see the crow’s feet at the edges of his eyes, the way his irises are slightly cloudy and he relies on her to guide him.

“We’re gettin’ close,” McCree says after a while. The sidewalks around them have been getting emptier and emptier as they’d gone on, and it’s clear they’re at the edge of Los Muertos territory by the tags on the walls alone, but the lack of people does put Hana at ease: if there’s a firefight, civilian casualties is one less headache to worry about. “Hanzo, you might wanna – ”

“Yes,” Hanzo says, neatly cutting him off. A moment later he’s found a suitable building to climb and is up in a flash, disappearing over the edge before popping his head over to peer down at them. “ _It is clear, but I will scout ahead just in case._ ”

“Stay close,” 76 says, and then, “Get your weapons ready, too.”

The warehouse is a sturdy structure, painted a dull gray and covered in graffiti when it slowly looms into sight. She can see the bioluminescent glow from some of the spray paint – the hallmark of the Los Muertos gang, apparently – and it’s with no small sense of trepidation that she reaches into her purse and pulls out her handgun, loading it with a magazine without looking as they close in. From here, the place looks abandoned, and Hanzo says, “ _There are no guards posted. If there is an ambush, they are watching for us through other means._ ”

“Los Muertos tech is pretty good,” 76 says, “But it’s not that good. You sure you don’t see anyone, Hanzo?”

“ _Quite, Commander. It is safe to approach the door._ ”

Hana and McCree exchange glances as 76 reaches to his pocket, taking his visor and affixing it to his face. A moment passes before the red line glows, and he wordlessly takes the lead, rifle braced against his side as he walks forward; McCree is a silent shadow beside them as Hana presses against the wall, watching behind them as they advance towards the door. As Hanzo had said, there is no movement whatsoever from – anywhere, and when 76 is at the door he murmurs, “Jesse?”

McCree nods silently and takes the position opposite 76 at the door so they are braced on either side. Hana stays further back – there’s no cover in this alley, unfortunately, so she just pushes her back against the wall and glances up to see Hanzo in profile, watching for any possible guards as McCree tentatively tries the door. It’s unlocked and creaks at the slight push, and McCree grimaces before carefully pushing it open further. Once it’s opened enough for him to go, he nods to 76 and slips inside, soundless; 76 soon follows, and then, Hana takes in a breath and slips through as well.

It’s dark inside. She can’t see very far in front of her, at least, and only the glow from the door and 76’s visor provide any sort of light source. She is so hilariously out of her element here, she realizes with a slight smile, and with that in mind she stays close to the door as McCree and 76 cautiously venture forth, sticking close to each other.

The place is silent. If this is a trap, it would be sprung soon, and as if knowing what she was thinking Hanzo says, “ _It is still clear outside. Is Satya in there?_ ”

“We are not sure,” Hana whispers as loudly as she dares. “Seventy-six and McCree are beginning the search, and – ”

A sharp crack, McCree yelps, and someone laughs, dark and foreign. The lights come on a moment later, flickering and bright, fluorescent white, and Hana blinks rapidly to adjust to the change. 76 is already on alert, scanning for threats with his rifle braced against him, and McCree grunts as he sits up from where he’d been – tripped, presumably.

“ _What happened?_ ” Hanzo urges, concern lacing through.

“I do not know,” Hana breathes, and then there’s a chuckle behind her and the door closes. She reacts on instinct, jumping away and rolling as she hits the floor, but when she aims her handgun to the door, there is no one there. “Someone is here.”

“Oh, so it _is_ D.Va,” a voice from somewhere behind her says, and Hana immediately pivots and takes a step back. 76 is already pointing a gun in the direction of the sound, too, and McCree as well, and the room echoes with the same sardonic laugh as earlier. “I was wondering what was taking Overwatch so long. I shouldn’t have doubted Vaswani, it seems.”

“ _I am going around to the other side_ ,” Hanzo says before his comm clicks off.

Hana is hardly paying attention; the mention of Satya’s name is enough to get her full attention _._ “Where is she?” she demands, eyes flicking around her.

“She’s here, don’t worry,” the voice – a woman, Hana thinks – says smugly. “She was very insistent that Overwatch would come, you know.” A pause, and then, “Though I don’t think she was expecting you, Hana Song.”

“Who are you?” 76 asks, sending Hana a warning look; _stay quiet, we don’t know what we’re dealing with._

“It’s not polite to demand a person’s name, you know,” the woman says. “Besides, wouldn’t you rather hear from your friend? Go ahead, say something, Vaswani.”

“Must you always be like this?” says someone else, called from somewhere inside the warehouse, and Hana’s eyes widen in recognition: Satya, at long last, though she isn’t in sight. “You can end the games. One of their agents has located me.”

“ _She is safe_ ,” Hanzo says presently, and a tight coil Hana hadn’t even noticed in her chest loosens.

The woman tsks, meanwhile, and reprimands, “I told you not to move.”

“Yet you didn’t otherwise prevent me from doing so.” A short sigh. “This grows tiresome. I know you are just standing between them, being cryptic for no reason.”

“So little faith,” the woman laughs, and Hana reflexively tightens her grip on her gun and stiffens her stance when the air in front of her shimmers purple. A moment later she can make out bright, violet clothes, sharp eyes, a devilish smile, and the woman turns her head to shoot Hana a smirk. “I suppose I’m being hypocritical, since I wasn’t sure you’d come here at all.”

“You’ve got three guns trained on you,” 76 growls. “Now would be a good time to start talking.”

The woman laughs, harsh and cutting, and it instantly puts Hana on edge. This is someone who has seen hurt and who has hurt – and, for all intents and purposes, seems to be enjoying herself as she makes a show of examining her nails, careless and dismissive. The most dangerous kind of person, Hana knows: the wildcards, the ones you can’t possibly predict.

“It’s a good thing your DJ was able to figure out where the message had been sent from,” the woman says, smirking widely. “It would’ve been too late, otherwise.

“I am Sombra,” she says, stepping back once and offering her, 76, and McCree a dramatic bow, hands splaying out behind her as she bends to neat ninety-degree angle. “And while I would love to stay and chitchat a while, I require your assistance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOMBRA, at long last (and emily!). i have been waiting so long to write sombra in all of her glory, and now we get many, many chapters with her (and satya!) in the future. get pumped!
> 
> oh, and, uh. torb comic. with bastion? #goodshit
> 
> and, well. efi. orisa. doomfist. how will they be fitting into this fic? so glad you asked! i can't tell you because spoilers, but please be assured that they'll make appearances eventually! with, you know, more attention than pharah and zarya have gotten so far. probably. (welp.) too many characters, not enough time :c
> 
> (meanwhile: oh my god let me finish this fic before blizz introduces new characters please _please_ i have to do so much creative finagling to get this to work oh my god) (this is very unlikely. rip. RIP.)
> 
>  **EDIT** : art courtesy [@sylvaur](http://sylvaur.tumblr.com/post/158278599091/sylvaur-sheba-s-h-e-b-a-m-a-a-m)!! it's so gorgeous and i love it <3
> 
> headcanons:
> 
> \- ana [teaches orisa how to make tea](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/post/157969661955/ok-but-imagine-orisa-trying-to-help-hana-and), whenever she makes it into the roster  
> \- symmetra has listened to lúcio's music and actually does enjoy it, though she'd never admit this to lúcio's face in a million years  
> \- zenyatta is about an intimidating as a kitten until he is threatened/a friend is threatened. then he goes from 0 to 100 in about two milliseconds and there is usually screaming involved  
> \- mercy once pistol-whipped strike-commander jack morrison in the face when he startled her and in doing so entered overwatch legend  
> \- lúcio can handle most firearms fairly competently. people often forget that he broke into vishkar to steal his sound tech, but if you get into a fight with him you'll soon remember  
> \- 76 was the token Nice Guy back in the day, but those who know him well know that he has an excellent deadpan and sarcasm delivery. this was often used in PR to comedic effect, spawning many jack morrison memes from viewers  
> \- reaper has played _starcraft_ and _diablo_ and is aware of how his entire character rips off several elements of both games  
>  \- genji asked for the green lights to be installed on him, as they serve essentially no other purpose. when mercy asked him why, his answer was "aesthetic"  
> \- mccree hates cold weather. and also hot weather. basically any weather that isn't in the ideal range of high seventies and low eighties.  
> \- sombra is standoffish, flippant, and dismissive - but in reality she cares so much. this only manifests itself in her doing things for those she wants to help, often without them asking or even knowing  
> \- tracer's relationship with time is... [unique, to say the least](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9389630/chapters/21256370).  
> \- pharah is almost as bad a troll as ana can be, if you catch her at the right time  
> \- the moment bastion gets a chip that allows it to connect to the internet is the day that overwatch gains seven new pets, from mice to insects to more birds  
> \- the only reason hanzo uses a bow is because it's quiet and thus a good stealth-oriented weapon. he views scopes as a handicap and looks down on people who use silencers  
> \- similarly: widowmaker will unashamedly put scopes on any firearm handed to her because she hates wasting ammo - and why miss when she could take a few extra seconds to line up a shot and kill?  
> \- torbjörn's kids send him pictures and letters all the time, which usually end up tacked all over the walls of his space of the workshop  
> \- canonically, hana's father is the only one she can't beat at _starcraft_. headcanon-wise: he was tapped to join MEKA but volunteered hana in his stead after asking hana and learning she intended on joining anyway. the last time they played a round against each other was three years ago, and hana is dead certain she would kick his ass now  
>  \- when reinhardt and zarya finally do arm-wrestle, it is livestreamed, filmed, and carefully documented. several webpages soon popped up for the sole purpose of admiring both reinhardt and zarya's muscles  
> \- someone once recorded winston saying 'hello' and 'hello there' and posted the sound clip online. winston doesn't know how many times his greetings have been used as text alerts, ringtones, etc., but if he did he'd be flattered


	72. OPERATION: TRUTH (part 4 of 6)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello naughty overwatch it's sombra time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the delay lmao. finals are coming up, too, so likely you won't be seeing me on ao3 for a while - apologies! if you miss me you can always hit up my tumblr c;
> 
> many thanks to rogue and costume for beta-ing as usual! them's good people, yo.
> 
> have a fantastic and wonderful day today!

“Our assistance,” 76 repeats, skepticism lending his voice a sharp edge. Hana aims her handgun at Sombra’s forehead and says nothing, hands steady and stance ready, and McCree has an expression on his face that she can’t quite place.

“Did I stutter?” Sombra counters, lips quirked into a smile, and she says acidly, “Is it so surprising? One woman can’t accomplish everything on her own. – Well, almost everything, that is.”

“I seem to recall someone sayin’ that ‘anything can be hacked,’” McCree says with a tilt of his head, and that is when Hana can place the strange frown pulling his mouth, the gleam in his eye – that’s recognition. Somehow, he knows this person, and he adds, “And you also said anyone could be hacked, too. Don’t see the reason why you’d need us.”

“How sweet! You remembered,” Sombra says, grinning outright now. There is nothing kind about it. “And here I thought you were too far gone to know what I was saying.”

“Just ‘cause you said it in Spanish doesn’t mean I can’t understand, y’know.”

“Sure, but you _were_ dead drunk.” McCree raises an eyebrow. Sombra rolls her eyes with a shake of her head before brusquely moving on. “Whatever. The point is that I need muscle, so you guys are going to help me.”

“Why?” 76 says, voice level.

“Because otherwise, she will kill me,” Satya says. Her voice is ragged and tired, and Hana’s heart jumps into a panicked flutter when the woman comes into view. She's dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt – nothing fancy, and nothing compared to Sombra’s clearly expensive and custom get-up – and she rubs the hem of her shirt between her fingers with a pensive, withdrawn expression on her face. Hanzo is not at her side, suggesting he has taken a perch somewhere else; _good_ , Hana thinks, and Satya glances down towards the floor and mutters, “Among other things.”

“Like your cowboy said,” Sombra says with a wink; “Anyone can be hacked. It would be so very terrible if something were to happen to your dear, precious Athena.”

Hana is almost one-hundred percent certain that Athena can hear this conversation happening through their comms. As it stands, the AI remains silent, and it’s McCree who sighs and says, “Y’know, when I met you at the bar back then, you weren’t this dramatic. Or confrontational.”

“Performance is everything. And besides, that is because I didn’t know how important you were.” Sombra’s smirk widens when McCree fixes her with an even look. “Plus, you were not worth the trouble.”

“Even with the bounty on my head?”

“You think I have trouble with money?” Sombra says, then makes a dismissive sound. “Nah.”

“If you’re quite finished?” Satya says. By now, she’s walked forward to stand by 76, proud but weary, tall but hunched, and she says, “Tell them what you want, Sombra. You know that you are at a disadvantage at this point.”

“I have to be sure they’ll do it first, _belleza_ ,” Sombra fires back. McCree’s eyebrow shoots up to his hairline. “Your life is on the line, you know. Perhaps you should be more concerned, no?”

“That is not as much of an incentive as you think it is,” Satya replies, voice expressionless, and that is _not_ okay, that is actually very bad, and Hana can’t help the glance to 76 for guidance. She can’t move from her spot until they’re sure that Sombra isn’t an immediate threat – or she could, but that would end badly, she knows what happens when you disobey smart orders – but, at least for for now, he gives her a minute shake of his head.

And so she stays put, even as she burns with the need to rush over and drag Satya and ask her what is wrong. It’s a familiar feeling. She doesn’t like it.

“So negative,” Sombra tsks in the meantime, but then she laughs, harsh and cutting, and says, “It doesn’t matter. Will you help me or no?”

“Our options being help you, or – what?” McCree says, and it seems 76 is deferring to him for now. “You kill Symmetra, apparently, and hack Athena. And what would happen if we, I dunno, made sure that didn’t happen?”

“I would love to see you try,” Sombra says with a sneer. The air around her fingertips shimmers as she gives them a dismissive flap of her hand. “Come now, you think I would not have insurance ready to cash in? Try to kill me, and you will have much more to worry about than this little detour.” She clasps her hands together, staring McCree dead in the eye, and says with a smirk, “I’m sure you know that that is a risk you shouldn’t take, cowboy.”

“I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about,” McCree says, entirely unimpressed.

“Then you must be stupider than I thought,” Sombra says with a chuckle, to which McCree does not react. A pause; then the woman sighs, short and loud, and her eyes harden, shoulders straightening, arms folding across her chest as she says tersely, “Look, I will make this more enticing. You help me, I let you go – and I lend you my skills. Sweetens the deal, no?”

She’s desperate, Hana thinks, but why? “There’s no reason for you to hold up your end of the bargain,” McCree points out.

“Have some faith, cowboy,” Sombra says, eyes narrowing. “How about this, then? I help you right now, whatever it is you need me to do, and then you do what I need you to do.” Her stare is piercing and passes between the four of them. “Don’t waste your time telling me you don’t need my help; I know it isn’t true.”

“Really,” McCree says.

“Name your price,” Sombra answers, spreading her arms and then dropping them back to her sides.

Hana can see 76 and McCree both mulling this over; then McCree glances over at 76 and says, “Well, Commander?” and the chain of command shifts, quick and not at all subtle.

“Commander, eh?” Sombra says, picking up on it immediately – and when she takes a step forward, all three firearms follow her motions, so quickly that she stops and sends them all an unimpressed look. “ _Relájense_ , five against one aren’t good odds. If I was going to kill you, I would have already done it, anyway.”

 _Implying you could_ , Hana says, just as 76 says, “Nothing stopping you now,” pointedly ignoring Sombra’s question. “Let’s hear what you want us to do, first.”

“Ah, but that’s a little unfair, isn’t it?” Sombra says, one eyebrow rising. “Here I am, offering to do anything you might need, and in return, all I ask is a little help.”

“Tell us what _help_ you need, then,” 76 growls.

“So pushy.” 76 taps his trigger finger against his gun, once, final, a motion so slight it’s hardly noticeable, but Sombra raises her hands in the air. “Fine, but only because you asked so nicely.”

She lifts her hands and curls them in front of her, drawing them away from each other with one smooth motion. In their wake glows a purple holoprojection, then two, then three; each show the same building from multiple angles, one aerial, one from the ground, another from what appears to be a security camera. Hana recognizes the place only because it has such a different look from the rest of Dorado itself – this is the LumériCo power plant, and Sombra taps on one of the screens with a gloved finger.

“This is my target,” she says, and adds, “Getting in is easy. Getting out – not so much.”

“And you intend to do what?” McCree deadpans.

“I intend to destroy it.” She’s expecting some shock, that much Hana can tell. When she doesn’t get any, she scoffs and shakes her head. “And as I’ve already made quite clear, I need your help. And hers, especially,” she adds, looking over at Satya and winking. Satya doesn’t react beyond an almost inaudible sigh.

“Why threaten to kill her if we move against you, then?” 76 says.

“Why have a hostage if you’re not going to use it as a hostage situation?” Sombra says, and she rolls her eyes. “It astounds me how I must explain this to you, but while I could do this on my own, this is much faster – but only if you cooperate. Which I am seeing a distinct lack of so far, if I might remind you.”

“I highly doubt that you need _us_ to help you,” 76 says. “You’re the one who broke through LumériCo cybersecurity in the first place.”

“Oh, you know about that?” Sombra sketches a short little bow as she says, “My reputation precedes me.”

“Just change the code so the place blows up,” 76 says, exasperated.

“You really have no idea how this works, do you?” Sombra says, a small smirk curling her lip. Her fingers spin and move in the air; the projected images change to show – something. Hana has no idea what I is, but it’s large, nondescript, and made of what appears to be metal. “Code can do a lot, but it takes time, and time is money. So, no; we are going to do this the easy way.”

“Meaning?”

“Vaswani here will construct this,” Sombra says, jabbing a finger at the metal thing. “I simply need your help getting it into the power plant. From there, we escape. Once it explodes, and the whole place is a hole in the ground, we’re done.” She spreads her arms. “Simple, no?”

“Sure,” 76 says blandly. “What’s keeping you from blowing us up with it?”

“ _Dios m_ _ío_ ,” Sombra groans, bracing her hands on her hips. “I’ll be there _with_ you. Besides, I don’t make a habit of blowing up my friends.” Her eyes gleam. “And Overwatch is a very good friend to have, you know?”

“Oh, so we’re friends now,” McCree says with a marginal tilt of his head. He’s still very clearly unimpressed, though Hana can’t quite figure out why.

“Allies, then, since you are all so picky about this.” The images vanish with a snap of Sombra’s fingers, and she crosses her arms across her chest, foot tapping impatiently on the floor. “Look, do we have a deal or not? I help you, you help me. It is not rocket science.”

“You seriously kidnapped Symmetra to bait us all the way out here,” 76 says. “Just to get our help.”

“What? No, obviously not,” Sombra says, laughing. “Do you always think this highly of yourselves? No, I grabbed Vaswani because I needed the weapon in her arm. Knowing Overwatch would come after her was just an unexpected opportunity.”

 _The weapon of mass destruction_ , Hana thinks, and she glances over at Satya. The woman meets her gaze steadily for a few seconds before her eyes shift to stare at something in the distance; clearly even Vishkar isn’t safe from Sombra’s hacking, and that is enough for Hana to give pause at the woman’s threats.

“You are wasting both my time and yours with these questions, at this rate,” Sombra says presently. “Tell me one thing you need me to do for you, I do it, then you help me, and then we’re both on our way. Is it really so hard to choose?”

McCree says something to Sombra in Spanish, then, fast and soft and articulate. Whatever it is makes her eyebrows rise, and she responds in kind, briefly, clearly a question. McCree’s answer curls her lips upwards, and she dips her head in a nod.

“Talk, then,” Sombra says. “You have five minutes. I’ll be around.”

“You eavesdrop and the deal’s off,” McCree warns, and Sombra merely laughs – before vanishing in a shimmer of purple pixels, gone as quickly as she had first appeared. Hana slowly lowers her gun, tense and coiled, as 76 looks over at McCree for an explanation, which ends up being “Asked her to give us time.”

“You didn’t have to do it in Spanish,” 76 says.

“Kinda did,” McCree says with a wince. “Needed her to think a certain way. Specifically told her I needed time to convince you to accept her offer, ‘cause framin’ is everything.”

“You realize I understand Spanish.”

“Don’t speak it, though.”

There’s a brief pause. “Fair enough,” 76 says, willing to let sleeping lions lie, and he turns to Satya instead, rifle swinging up and over to rest on his shoulders. “Are you alright, Symmetra?”

Satya shrugs, lets out a soft hum. There’s a certain lack of expression to the sound that indicates she is very much not fine, and Hana can only wonder how much strain she has been under for the past few hours. No doubt she needs time to herself, and here she is, unable to get it.

“Can you explain what all of this is?” 76 asks, a bit more gently than before.

“I can try,” she says, still listless. “We do not have much time, however.”

“Do you think we should do this, then?” 76 asks, and Satya doesn’t answer. He presses on, “You know more about the situation than any of us. Anything you can tell us helps.”

“I – yes, of course,” Satya says haltingly. “Very well. Would you prefer specificities or generalities?”

“Everything,” 76 says, “Or at least as much as you can.”

“As you say.” She takes a moment to collect her thoughts, twisting the hem of her shirt, and opens with “I can say with absolute certainty that going forth with this will strain relations with Vishkar.” She holds up a hand when McCree’s mouth opens to interrupt, stopping him before he could speak. “I know you currently keep them in check with your blackmail from Rio, but they will see this as a direct attack upon them; even if there is no way to trace the attack back to Overwatch specifically, they will know that I was involved and will make assumptions. You will lose their funding and support.”

“And what about you?” McCree says. “They gonna drag you back?”

Satya’s lips quirk into a small, strained smile; it looks like it physically pains her. “That remains to be seen.”

“We’ll do what we can if you don’t want to go back to them,” 76 assures her.

Or at least it’s meant as a reassurance. Satya merely stares at him for a few moments, face blank, before moving on. “Sombra will ensure this does not lead back to Overwach publicly, at the very least – she does not go back on her word – and this will deal a major blow against LumériCo and, by extension, Vishkar.”

“Do you know _why_ she cares about this?” 76 asks.

“No,” Satya says, shaking her head. “Sombra has told me that she has Los Muertos ties, which is why they leave this warehouse alone, but other than that, I am fairly certain that she operates on her own agenda.”

“And the weapon?” McCree says.

“Yes,” Satya says, nodding slightly. “My superior had me prepare it specifically in case LumériCo went rogue, so to speak. This is why Sombra needed me.”

“What is it?”

“As she implied,” Satya says tiredly, “It is, in essence, a bomb. Specifically tailored to the LumériCo plant’s power source, but a bomb nonetheless.”

McCree parses this silently. 76 is the one who asks, “Why would they trust something so controversial to a single architech?”

Satya’s smile is bitter as she clasps her hands together. “No one at Vishkar would have expected my departure under any circumstance; thus, the extension of trust.” There’s an expectant lull wherein the three of them expect Satya to elaborate; instead she stares off at some point in the distance and says, “Might we speak of something else?” after the silence has stretched past a few seconds.

“I mean, not much else to say,” McCree says. “The only real question is whether we actually benefit from this or not.”

“It is difficult to say,” Satya admits with a short sigh. “The fact that Sombra has offered Overwatch, as an entity, a favor without restrictions is significant, however.”

“No restrictions,” 76 repeats.

“Yes.”

“And she is a skilled hacker,” 76 muses. “She’s a free agent? No ties to anything?”

“As far as I know,” Satya confirms. “I would still be cautious, but – ”

“Your five minutes are up,” Sombra announces, and for once she doesn’t just appear out of nowhere – Hana can hear her footsteps approaching as her voice echoes around the room, and a few seconds later she catches a glimpse of purple out of the corner of her eye. It’s another few seconds before Sombra steps into view, eyes sharp and gleaming a she stares McCree down, winking once before her gaze shifts to 76; Satya glances to Hana, briefly, before she looks back down at the floor, and Hana has the sudden urge to try and hide the woman from view somehow. “Have we a deal?”

“First, our favor,” 76 says, and Hana’s glad at least someone here has a plan.

“Whatever you want,” Sombra says, grinning. “I do not forget my promises.”

“Good,” 76 says, and then, “Consider this our recruitment process. We could use your skills in Overwatch, so if this goes well, you’ll work for us.” The rifle swings down from his shoulder to rest in his hands, and he says, vaguely threatening, “Otherwise, deal’s off.”

McCree opens his mouth as if to protest, thinks better of it, and closes it again. Satya’s eyes widen incrementally. Hana merely blinks, rapidly thinking through what he was asking, what that would mean, and Sombra is so clearly caught off-guard by this demand that it would be hilarious in different circumstances. Hana watches a plethora of emotions cycle across the woman’s face – shock, confusion, annoyance, exasperation, anger – and finally her expression settles on a neutral frown and she says, hesitantly, “That is a lot to ask. You hardly know the first thing about me.”

“If we’re your ‘friends’,” 76 says, indicating quotation marks with his free hand, “Then this shouldn’t be a difficult decision for you.”

“‘Friend’ does not instantly mean ‘trust’,” Sombra sneers, but Hana can tell she’s still a bit thrown off by how quickly it fades, how her voice is slightly petulant as she says, “This hardly seems like a fair trade.”

“Whatever we want, wasn’t it?” 76 says, and then, just a bit smug, “Unless you back out of deals.”

“Hardly,” Sombra scoffs, and she gives a slight shake of her head. “You are lucky I need your help so badly. Very well, once this is complete, I will return with you to wherever Overwatch is stationed.” Her eyes flicker, but there’s no mirth there as she murmurs, “No background checks, even. You realize you are recruiting a former gang member, right?”

“And a criminal, and a cyberterrorist,” 76 rattles off. “Yes. Let’s just say Overwatch could use all the help it can get.”

“That is an amusing thought,” Sombra says with a smirk. “And it’s not like I have much to do after this is finished. I suppose I must accept your terms in that regard.” She closes the distance between her and 76 with a few lengthy strides and holds out her hand. He reaches out, and once they shake on it, she nods a single time with finality and releases his fingers as if burned. “We have a lot of ground to cover if we want to finish this quickly. _Belleza_ , you’re with me.”

“I have a name,” Satya says stiffly, arms folded defensively in front of her, flesh hand stroking up and down her prosthetic arm; a nervous tic, a sign that she’d like something to toy with in her fingers.

“Mine suits you,” Sombra says, and McCree snorts, just once, coughing into his fist when Sombra rounds a glare at him. “Come. Let’s go.”

“Some details would be nice before you run off,” 76 says as Sombra pivots on a heel, and he makes a good point.

Sombra huffs, her back to the four of them, and reaches to a pocket inside her coat, drawing her other hand across the air and pulling up multiple interfaces and holoprojections as she goes. A few quick motions later, she’s tossing a small, square bit in their general direction; Hana is the one who catches it and turns it over in her hands. It’s a small, black cube, a single button on one of the sides that glows faintly violent, and it’s otherwise small, smooth, and unassuming. “Look through that,” Sombra says, just barely turning her head to spare them a glance over her shoulder. “It has all the information you need. Let’s go, Vaswani.”

“Hold up,” McCree says, stepping forward. “You can’t expect us to just let you take her and go. I’m goin’ along to keep an eye out.”

“She’s her own person,” Sombra says with a sneer. “As am I. Do not presume to even think you can control or intimidate me, cowboy.”

“It is fine. I will see you later,” Satya says, rigid and tight in a way that suggests it very much isn’t.

“Besides, your archer will be watching us closely,” Sombra adds, one eyebrow rising, and then she grins, slow and malicious. Hana can see the palpable relief in the way Satya’s body posture changes, just a tiny dip of her shoulders. “And we are friends, no? Trust goes both ways, doesn’t it?”

“There is no other choice,” Satya tells McCree, when he glances at her for confirmation, and adds quietly, “It won’t take long.”

“That confident in your skills?” Sombra says, teeth glinting. “You have never even built this before.” Satya doesn’t deign that with a response, and Sombra merely shakes her head, grinning widely once again. “I will call you over once we are ready to move, if you do not find us first.”

“Fine,” 76 says.

Sombra nods once, smugly satisfied, and turns her back in earnest now, beginning to walk towards the back of the warehouse. She pauses midstride, however, Satya continuing past her as she throws over her shoulder, “I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but do your best to familiarize yourself with the facility I the meantime.” She gives them a cheeky wave. “ _Adi_ _ós_.”

Her footsteps are silent as she breaks into a light jog to catch up with Satya’s clicking heels. The architech looks back once, lips pursed, before she’s out of view, and Hana can only stare after them, blinking, before looking down at the cube resting lightly in her palm.

“Suppose we should do as she asks,” McCree says after a moment. “Not much else we can do, it seems.”

“Right,” 76 says. “Hana, if you would?”

Hana nods and presses the button on the little cube, uncurling her fingers as it flashes various holographic projections of maps, images, and text files into the air directly above it, violet and glowing even under the harsh light. Most of the words are in Spanish -  though as Hana watches, the letters rearrange themselves into English almost effortlessly. McCree lets out an impressed whistle, and Hana can only shake her head as she skims through the first few lines of text; this is certainly fancier than whatever Apple could do back home.

 _Apple_.

“Here,” Hana says, gingerly passing the cube into 76’s palm. “Give me a moment,” and he merely hums agreement, turning to McCree, as she pulls out her phone.

* * *

[  GENERAL CHAT  ]

[Primality]: hey does anyone remember that one song that reynolds’ squad wrote  
[tlaloques]: unfortunately  
[Primality]: ok good because i think i can hear it. somewhere. from inside the omnium maybe?  
[EVIE]: You know in any circumstance i’d be appalled that anyone listens to that on their own volition  
[Reynolds]: Seconded.  
[EVIE]: But now i’m just creeped out  
[CaerBaer]: Omnics deploying psychological weapons. That’s probably not good.  
[cr01ss4nt]: you’d think they would hate 8-bit music  
[Reynolds]: That’s racist.  
[cr01ss4nt]: oh i’m sooooo sorry  
[Stray]: You have music-streaming capabilities in your MEKAs. Might as well use it now.  
[10JQK]: It’s time to party!! BUST OUT THE TUNES  
[Stray]: Please don’t broadcast over the General Chat, 10.  
[10JQK]: Aww

* * *

[  SQUAD LEADER CHAT  ]

[Stray]: Roll call.  
[EVIE]: cr01ss4nt and prime are back, so my squad is here  
[Reynolds]: We’re all here.  
[CaerBaer]: Four strong as usual.  
[ΩMEGA]: tlaloques and i are fine.  
[AbsOlitE]: Still here.  
[tReason]: present and accounted for.  
[Stray]: Great. Thanks for the fast responses. Carry on, people.  
[Stray]: C5, you’re still good out there?  
[ccccc]: doing fine cap! don’t you worry about us  
[Stray]: Not a captain, but duly noted.  
[Stray]: Youngblood, how’s it going?  
[Stray]: Youngblood?  
[Stray]: @Youngblood, I need an update.  
[Youngblood]: shit sorry  
[Youngblood]: we’re here we’re fine but  
[Youngblood]: fuck!  
[Youngblood]: we’re not fine we’re down one  
[Stray]: What?  
[Stray]: Who is it?  
[Youngblood]: shit! shit shit shit  
[Youngblood]: goddammit i even knew what to do and i just  
[CaerBaer]: Where are you? We’ll find whoever it is if they’ve been trapped.  
[Youngblood]: oh my god. oh my god what am i going to tell d.va  
[Stray]: Youngblood. Now isn’t the time. Who is it?  
[Youngblood]: i  
[Youngblood]: i shouldn’t have been made squad leader i can’t  
[Youngblood]: i can’t do this i  
[CaerBaer]: Stray, send me her location. We can go see what’s going on.  
[Stray]: Fine. Pinging you her coordinates.  
[Stray]: Pull yourself together, Youngblood. We need you focused and ready out there. Pull back for now and wait for Caer.  
[Youngblood]: ok  
[Youngblood]: ok yeah i can do that i  
[Youngblood]: oh my god what am i going to say to her

* * *

( _Breathe_ , D.Va whispers.)

It takes Hana a moment to realize the heat coiling tight in her chest isn’t panic – no, that’s rage, rage that Youngblood had so spectacularly fucked up and she’s not worried about Hana’s squadmates but instead Hana’s reaction, _how shallow can you get_ , but that’s not fair and Hana knows it, so she squashes the rage into something small and manageable, _save your anger for a fight_ –

But once she’s done that, there’s ice crawling down her spine, cold and dark, rippling across her skin and draining the blood from her cheeks. She’d hoped against hope and that – that hasn’t been enough, had it? This was proof, isn’t it? Proof that something had happened, worse, proof that she hadn’t even been there for it.

( _Is this worth it?_ D.Va whispers, and Hana’s only choice is to believe it is.)

She turns her back to 76 and McCree before they can make note of her pale face, moving quietly to the next chatroom. She can’t do anything about – she can’t do anything right now, not yet.

* * *

[ 흩어진전쟁개  ]

[10JQK]: HOLY FUCK THAT’S A CRUSADER  
[10JQK]: DO YOU SEE THEM?? THEY’RE WEARING CRUSADER ARMOR  
[10JQK]: OH MY GOD LOOK AT THAT SHIELD! LOOK AT HOW BIG THE HAMMER IS!! THEY’RE SO _TALL_  
[ccccc]: ahahahaha  
[LockE]: 10, now is really not the time to ask them for an autograph. Wait until after the battle, at least.  
[10JQK]: WHAT IF I DIE???? I MIGHT NOT GET ANOTHER CHANCE  
[10JQK]: I’LL BE RIGHT BACK  
[ccccc]: 10 no!! c’mon man they probably don’t even have a pen  
[LockE]: There they go.  
[ccccc]: ugh pull back for now we’ll wait until he gets it out of their system

* * *

[  밈시티 ]

[AppleCIder]: hey. hey youngblood. hey d.va.  
[AppleCIder]: fuck you.

* * *

There it is again, the frigid hand gliding down her back, and Hana closes her eyes tightly for a few moments, waiting for her blood to be replaced by stones. Apple rarely lost her temper, after Tango she was the most level-headed member of Hana’s squad, and she’s also Hana’s best shot for answers. Apple’s angry, Hana knows that, but she has to know, she has to hear, and she pulls up the chatbox and starts to type.

But as soon as she taps the first characters – the instant it says she’s typing – it informs her that Apple is typing. She stops, fingers frozen above the screen.

She waits.

* * *

[AppleCIder]: no.  
[AppleCIder]: no, you don’t get to pop in late and ask what’s wrong.  
[AppleCIder]: you have no idea what you’ve done. if you cared, you would be here. you wouldn’t have let this happen.  
[AppleCIder]: get out.  
[AppleCIder]: this is your fault.

* * *

_This is your fault_ , Apple says.

The phone’s screen glares balefully at her as she stares at the words, unable to pull her eyes away even as the screen dims and then goes blank from inactivity. Her heart thuds in her chest like a sledgehammer as she drops her phone back into her purse – her breath is short, too short, and she presses both hands hard against her sternum, using the pressure as a means to ground herself as she forces herself to breathe more slowly, slower, _slower_.

 _This isn’t your fault_ , Tango says.

Hana needs to talk to MIM. She needs to talk to Tango, whoever isn’t – but – no, she needs to talk to Stray, first, because her stomach hurts like Apple has just punched her, all of that time watching each other’s backs and then _this_ , like Hana isn’t hurting too, like the world is no bigger than everything Apple knows, that – Stray will have some guidance, she decides. He’s there, he’ll be able to tell her what’s going on. God, of course, of _course_ the one time this happens is the one time she isn’t there, if she ever needed a sign that MEKA needs her more than they’ve let on, this is it, and –

( _Focus_ , D.Va murmurs, and no, Hana can’t do that, her breaths coming shorter and shorter and her vision blurring and her shoulders beginning to shake – and so D.Va sighs and says, _Rest, then._ )

( _We’ve been doing so well_ , Hana despairs, and D.Va can only laugh.)

“Everything okay there, Hana?” McCree asks, and his timing could not have been worse as she releases the pressure on her chest, slowing her breaths as she straightens her spine, eyes blinking furiously until her vision sharpens and focuses. “Been hunched over your phone for a while there.”

“I am fine,” D.Va says, though she is painfully aware he couldn’t have missed how her phone is actually not in her hands. She turns towards him, carefully keeping her fingers uncurled and relaxed, and says as blankly as she can, “There have been a few developments in Siberia. I cannot do anything about them at the moment.”

“Bad things, I take it.”

“Extremely,” D.Va says, and adds, more to herself than anyone else, “I trust Stray to handle it.”

76 is watching her intently. D.Va can only cross her fingers, sighing inwardly; she’d hoped he wouldn’t pick up on it immediately, but naturally luck is against her. “We’ll be in Siberia soon enough,” McCree continues in the meantime. “Once this is done, we’ll hustle on over there.”

It’s a rather poor attempt at a reassurance. D.Va just nods once, pursing her lips before promptly changing the subject. “Anything I need to know going in?”

McCree raises an eyebrow at that, glancing over at 76. When 76 says nothing, still watching her carefully, the cowboy says, “Sombra’s plan is literally driving the bomb into the center of the power plant, setting the timer, and then getting out before we get blown up. All we need to do is make sure it gets there unscathed.” D.Va stares at him, slightly incredulous, mostly baleful, and McCree shrugs helplessly. “Seriously, that’s it. She really did just need muscle.”

“What does she expect us to find?” D.Va says after a moment, disbelief giving her voice an edge. “Beyond normal security?”

“Los Muertos,” 76 says, finally turning his head towards the screens and taking the red line of his visor with him. She breathes a quiet sigh of relief as he gestures to one of the holographic squares in the air before him; finally, his eyes are off of her. “She has ties to them, yes, but that won’t be enough to keep them off of me, at least as far as her research suggests. They apparently already know I’m in Dorado somewhere.”

“Can we not just pit one side against the other?” D.Va says. “Draw Los Muertos out, have them deal with LumériCo personnel?”

“Could try,” McCree says. “She’s apparently been considerin’ it – ” and here he points to another one of the holoprojections, one with what appears to be a color-coded rudimentary map of the area surrounding LumériCo itself. D.Va’s loathe to admit it, but Sombra is thorough, all things considered – “but no solid plans as of yet. Suppose we’ll see once Sombra decides to grace us with her presence.”

The way he says her name is how it’s supposed to be pronounced, a rolling ‘r’ that D.Va has never been able to master. Speaking of which – “How _do_ you know her?” D.Va asks, recalling the familiarity with which Sombra and McCree had exchanged jabs. “You met her while you were drunk?”

“S’long story,” McCree says with a wave of his hand. “Didn’t think I’d meet her again, honestly.” He laughs, short and curt. “Doesn’t bode well.”

“How vague,” D.Va says dryly.

“Some stories ain’t interestin’, darlin’,” McCree says with a ghost of a grin. It fades soon after. “We’ve got bigger fish to fry, at any rate. You still sure about all this, Commander?”

“We really don’t have a choice,” 76 answers, rolling his neck to one side and then the other, still studying the holoprojections in his hand. “It’s either this or leave Symmetra to her fate, which I’m not about to do.”

“ _I should hope so_ ,” Hanzo says without warning over comm, causing D.Va to huff on a laugh.

“Thought you were busy watchin’ over them,” McCree says, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. His hat somehow stays on his head.

“ _Multi-tasking is not impossible_ ,” Hanzo sniffs, and then, “ _Regardless, Satya appears to be halfway finished with whatever it is she is constructing. She is building it in the bed of a pickup truck._ ”

“Literally driving it in,” 76 muses. “The more I hear about Sombra, the less sure I am that I can take her seriously.”

“I do not like her,” D.Va says with a tone of finality. “Not to question your decision, Seventy-six, but the only thing tying her to us when she joins us is her word – and she does not seem like the type to do something unless it benefits her somehow.”

“ _On occasion, those people are the ones who can be best trusted,_ ” Hanzo says, voice carefully neutral.

“This is the best way to keep an eye on her,” 76 adds, and though he doesn’t state it as a direct argument, it comes across like one anyway. “She’s enough of a threat as it is. I’d rather have her close by than out there somewhere.”

“Just because she is close does not mean she cannot wreak havoc on an international scale,” D.Va points out.

“Which is fine and all,” McCree says, somehow not intrusive despite being just that, but then he says, “But it’s a done deal, darlin’. Bit late to be makin’ arguments.”

D.Va sets her jaw and says nothing. (It’s hard to focus with Hana’s panicked fussing in the back of her head.) It’s not the reaction either man is expecting, and 76 breaks the silence a few moments later. “Jesse, give us a minute?”

“Yeah, sure,” McCree says. The knowing look that passes between them is infuriating; D.Va keeps it from showing on her face as McCree lifts a hand to his comm and asks, “Hanzo, mind tellin’ me where I can join ya?”

Whatever Hanzo says in response is for McCree’s ears only, or at least D.Va doesn’t hear it through her own comm, and it actually makes McCree chuckle a little bit before he moves off with a quiet affirmative. 76 waits until he’s out of earshot, clicking the button on the cube so the holographic projections disappear in a quiet instant, and then he looks over at her, his stare a heavy weight on her shoulders.

Don’t bend, and don’t break, D.Va decides. If she gives even a millimeter, she’s not sure if she’ll be able to keep herself from coming apart.

“What happened in Siberia?” he asks.

“It does not matter,” D.Va says.

“Clearly it does.”

“It is fine.”

“Clearly it isn’t,” 76 says, calm and steady, and she wishes he’d get angry just so she would have an excuse to do something with the pent-up rage in her chest.

“I would rather not discuss it.”

“One-sentence summary, D.Va. That’s it.”

( _He knows._ )

She stiffens, shoots him something akin to a glare. She’d known that he had noticed, but he doesn’t have to bring it up, doesn’t have to call her out on it so blatantly. And yet, regardless:

“One of my squadmates was killed,” she says shortly, and then she turns her head and pointedly doesn’t look at him.

“Will you be alright for the mission?” 76 says after a moment. His voice isn’t coddling or gentle, closer to matter-of-fact than anything, and she appreciates that he doesn’t make light of it and yet the fact that it’s businesslike at all grates at her. “If you need too – ”

“I am not a _child_ ,” D.Va says, whirling on a heel to face him. She doesn’t mean to get angry, but the more he brings this up, the more he presses and asks and pushes – “I will be fine. It will not compromise the mission.”

“That’s not what I said,” 76 says patiently, and D.Va’s hands clench into fists because that was exactly what he had said. “It’s not too late to get Lena to fly you to Siberia, if you need to go now.”

“I will see this mission through,” D.Va says, forcing it out between gritted teeth.

“D.Va – ”

“Stop,” she says, lifting a hand, forcing her fingers to unclench. 76 is ready to argue, shoulders tensing even as he tries to maintain a more neutral pose, but he stills at the rawness of her voice as she says, quietly, “ _Please_.”

There’s a long moment of silence. There’s a stinging at the corner of her eyes, and D.Va stares straight into the red line of 76’s visor, daring him to comment.

“We’re talking about this later,” he says at last, and she blinks and looks away. She can’t let him know just how much she’s shaking on the inside, and she gives him a curt nod. He studies her for a few moments longer before saying, “Let’s go join the others.”

“Fine,” she says, and she waits for him to turn and start walking before she begins to move, one hand slipping into her purse, feet beginning their silent march behind him.

Her fingers bump against her phone, but that’s not what she’s looking for right now – instead she digs around a little more before she can feel a smooth, oblong surface, and a few moments later she draws out her compact mirror and flips it open. In the reflection is a young woman with shadows under eyes, hair pulled into a messy bun, streaks of pink across her cheeks and a spot of acne on her forehead. She looks exhausted; she _is_ exhausted, barely holding together at the edges, but D.Va ignores it all, instead dabbing a finger into her paint and carefully edging the lines into neat triangles.

She hesitates.

 _One for them_ , she thinks, MIM or Tango or – or whoever, and as she draws her finger across the bridge of her nose, the shakiness inside her fades, just a little bit, enough to swallow down the unrelenting panic threatening to choke her. She stares at her handiwork, blinks a few times.

“You will not be forgotten,” she whispers, and the compact mirror snapping shut echoes like thunder in her bones.

  
([click here for larger size](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/243448177796055040/300103920083140618/tdlh.png))

* * *

Outside the warehouse is a shaded alleyway – the back of the place, quiet and trash caked into corners, papers plastered over graffiti and a dumpster lying forlornly on its side. D.Va wrinkles her nose at the smell as she catches sight of the maroon pickup truck, leisurely floating in the middle of the small street; on its back is the metallic bomb, highlighted with the telltale white and cyan of Vishkar hardlight, and Satya, McCree, and Hanzo stand some distance away while Sombra flits about the truck, securing latches, speaking in quiet, rushed Spanish, tapping at the holographic interfaces in front of her with one hand. D.Va follows 76 to where the three of them are standing, sparing Sombra no more than cursory overview and noting the crease of the woman’s forehead; the desperation was beginning to show more visibly, it seems.

By the time D.Va makes it within earshot of the other three, she can tell immediately the conversation’s been going on for a while – Hanzo’s expression is grim, while Satya looks distinctively uncomfortable and McCree’s eyebrows are raised, surprise echoing in his voice as D.Va catches the tail end of his sentence: “ – worry about keeping you from ‘em because of _what_ now?”

“I’ve,” Satya starts, then stops, and then she says quietly, “I’ve left Vishkar.”

Hanzo lets out a soft hum under his breath; McCree and 76 are silent, taken off-guard. It’s Hana who asks, “Why?”

“Sombra has – shown me the extent of Vishkar’s dealings,” Satya says, halting but not uncertain. She’s silent for a few moments, eyes intent on the ground, before she speaks again. “I have had my suspicions for some time, but I did not expect... well.” She purses her lips, still not looking up. “I have not fully processed it yet.”

D.Va almost steps forward – almost reaches out to reassure her. She stops herself at the last second, though, beause Satya probably wouldn’t appreciate being touched out of nowhere, and that’s when D.Va notes the cloth that the woman is rubbing between the fingers of her flesh hand. It’s gold and smooth, patterned in a way that is reminiscent of clouds, or maybe scales.

( _Inside is an explosion waiting to go off_ , Hana whispers, and yes, yes – that’s what D.Va’s thinking too.)

( _And she is holding Hanzo’s ribbon_.)

 _So she is_ , D.Va thinks, and then says aloud, “If you need some time to yourself – ”

“Later,” Satya says brusquely. “After – _this_ – is over.” Her breath comes out in a hard, shaky exhale. “But some time now would be nice, yes.”

D.Va nods, looks to 76, McCree, and Hanzo, who all nod back at her, and together the four of them move off away from Satya and towards the truck again. 76’s hand slips onto her shoulder as they go, warm and heavy; a silent reminder, _you’re not alone_ , and D.Va reaches up to cover his fingers with hers, briefly, before Sombra pops into sight again as she nimbly hops over the explosive in the bed of the pickup truck.

“Glad you could make it,” she says with a smirk, one that fades slightly as she peers past them to where Satya is standing alone, head bowed and eyes closed, ribbon in hand. “Is Vaswani alright?”

“Yeah,” McCree says before anyone else can speak, easily lying through his teeth and still sounding genuine; D.Va would’ve have made a quip about how Sombra probably didn’t care about the woman’s wellbeing, at the very least. “Care to give us a rundown of your plan ‘fore we set off? Can’t be too careful.”

“True enough,” Sombra says good-naturedly. Surprising; D.Va would’ve expected her to rise to the unspoken jab. “There isn’t much to say that you haven’t seen already, if you looked through the plans I gave you.”

“Humor me.”

Sombra shrugs. “Your archer will be driving with Vaswani in shotgun, I suppose you probably did not know that.”

“Not even going to drive the thing yourself?” 76 asks her, sparing a glance to Hanzo, who merely shrugs.

“It is amazing how much you all doubt me,” Sombra says with a snort, ignoring the dry looks that wins her. “I can take control of the vehicle whenever I want, _comandante_.” 76 shakes his head, clearly unamused, and Sombra takes that as her cue to continue. “The rest of you will be in the back with the cargo.”

“The bomb, you mean,” Hanzo corrects.

“I forget how picky you all are,” Sombra says, rolling her eyes. “Cargo, bomb, makes no difference when it’s going to get blown up in the end.”

“That’s kinda the point,” McCree points out. “Makin’ it clear that it’s a bomb, I mean.”

“Is this what I have to look forward to?” Sombra says, waving a hand. “Pedantics? Pointlessness? It’s not too late for me to back out of this deal, is it?” Almost immediately 76, McCree, and D.Va lift their respective firearms in her direction, Hanzo nocking his bow with an arrow, and Sombra raises her hands in a surrender gesture as she heaves a dramatic sigh. “Overwatch sounds like fun, truly. Such kind, cheerful people.”

“Only on our bad days,” D.Va says.

Sombra barks out a startled laugh. “And I suppose this isn’t one of your better ones.”

“Something like that,” D.Va says, slowly lowering her gun. McCree and Hanzo follow suit a moment later; 76 is the last to do the same.

“Siberia does not sound pretty, yes,” Sombra says, and she laughs again when all four of them round her with equally dubious looks. “Please, as if I wouldn’t keep tabs on Overwatch’s comings and goings. Besides, everyone and their dog has heard about the Siberian omnium.”

“Interesting how no one sends help, then,” Hanzo says without inflection, glancing up towards the sky. “How long did you say this was going to take, again?”

“More than an hour if we are unlucky,” Sombra says, “We can begin as soon as Vaswani decides to join us, which will hopefully be soon – dawn grows near.”

Satya has since turned her back to their group, currently; what D.Va can see of the golden ribbon twists and turns in her hands. “Do not rush her,” she says.

“Obviously,” Sombra says with a snot, “But we are operating on a schedule, if you’ve forgotten. Unless you want to further delay your return to Siberia?”

D.Va is quiet at that, folding her arms across her chest and feeling suddenly self-conscious about the bold line of pink across her nose; Sombra somehow had deciphered exactly what it means, and the fact that she can so easily push a person’s buttons – so quickly learn a person’s fears and exploit them just as fast – makes D.Va feel small and defensive and frustrated.

( _But she is not wrong_ , Hana says hazily, and no, D.Va agrees sullenly, she isn’t.)

“Thought so,” Sombra says, grinning again, all tooth and fang. “But luckily I do not have to waste time explaining things, provided you looked through the plans.” She gives them all a glance askance. “You did look through them, right?”

76 holds up the small cube Sombra had given them. “These? Yeah.”

“Keep them,” Sombra says. “Who knows, maybe it will be useful later. – Did you review what kind of weapons we can expect to see?”

“If I were not driving, I could take them out from afar, you know,” Hanzo says, one single imperious eyebrow rising.

“It is not that I do not trust your skills,” Sombra informs him, “But it is also night, and the people we will see will be wearing body armor.”

“It is a full moon,” Hanzo points out, “And hardly anyone wears helmets.”

“I cannot risk this going wrong,” Sombra says, shaking her head, though she looks faintly amused. “If we can leave people alive, then we will do so.”

“Is that a conscience I hear?” McCree says, sounding both dubious and teasing at the same time.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sombra says with a quicksilver smirk, and whatever story McCree had refused to tell – clearly there’s some value to it, given how easily the two of them are getting along. “The less attention we draw to ourselves, the better.”

“Alright, just checkin’.”

“We’re really just going to try to sneak this into the power plant?” 76 says, a tinge of disbelief in his voice. “That’s your only plan?”

“We most definitely are, and yes, it is,” Sombra says. She grins. “Their cybersecurity could never stop me, and besides, we’ll be in a car. It will be fast.”

“Something is going to go wrong,” Hanzo intones, “And when it does, I am going to blame you.”

“And they say _I_ have trust issues,” Sombra says with a shake of her head. ( _Who’s they?_ Hana mumbles.) She waves a hand in the air and pulls up a holographic interface as she does so, twisting and moving her fingers and rapidly flicking through what is on the screen; whatever it is makes her eyebrows shoot up, and she closes the projection with another flap of her hand and says, “Okay, but we do have to get started soon. Clock’s ticking. _Oye_ , Vaswani!”

Satya stiffens, but doesn’t immediately turn her heel and walk over, which is apparently what Sombra expected if her scowl is anything to go by; it’s Hanzo who shakes his head and makes the short journey to the architech’s side, approaching quietly and saying something that D.Va can’t quite pick up when Satya glances over at him. A few moments of quiet discussion, and then Satya nods; when they turn around again, Satya is folding Hanzo’s ribbon in her hands, thumbs gently creasing and kneading the fabric as they approach, and her expression is carefully neutral as she meets Sombra’s gaze.

“I’ve already put in directions, of course, and I will know if you get lost,” Sombra says with a grin, gesturing to the truck. “Whenever you are ready, archer, Vaswani.”

“How kind,” Hanzo says dryly, making a beeline to the driver’s seat as Satya circles around to the passenger side. Sombra merely hops into the truck’s bed, next to the bomb; after an exchanged glance, D.Va and 76 follow her, McCree on their heels. The truck is one of the hover mag-lev kinds, so it’s entirely silent as Hanzo starts the engine, and D.Va hears him say through comm, “ _This is a terrible plan and a terrible idea._ ”

“ _It is too late for doubt_ ,” Satya replies and – she can make comms out of hardlight, right. D.Va had completely forgotten. “ _Let us just finish this so we can leave._ ”

“What a marvelous idea,” Sombra drawls, and of course she’d hacked into the frequency, of course she had, and McCree sighs loudly as she adds, sing-song, “Do me all a favor and follow the plan, will you?” before tossing something high and wide, past the warehouse’s walls and onto its roof, presumably – and then she disappears in a flash of shimmering purple, leaving empty air where she’d just been moments before. D.Va stares. So does 76.

“Pretty sure she stole that tech from Lena, somehow,” McCree says after a moment, just as the truck jerks forward and almost causes 76 to lose his grip and fall – and D.Va can’t find it in her to be at all surprised, instead tightening her grip on her gun and willing this to be over quickly, if only so Satya can finally have some time for herself, if only so Sombra will stop pestering them.

( _If only so we can go to Siberia_ , Hana whispers, and D.Va grits her teeth and says nothing.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me just say right away that i am a neurotypical person and if you have any guidance for writing a character like satya - please, please, _please_ help me out. there's only so much i can do through research, and this whole chapter felt kind of... incomplete. like i glossed over the kind of stuff satya would be experiencing and feeling, i mean. so like, this is on me, it's my fault, i'm sorry, please help me be better, thank you, hmu on tumblr though b/c i'll forget if you do it thru comments, apologies
> 
> now then, onto other stuff - hey sombra! and also maybe we'll figure out who exactly hana is remembering sooner rather than later, lol. (why did i end that sentence with lol? why am i like this.) uhh what else. uh so yeah sombra wants to blow up lumérico because... reasons. hopefully those reasons will be divulged in the future, but we will have to see haha (see i just did it again wtf). also i am slightly dying because there are too many male characters talking in this chapter, i miss my ladies, where are my overwatch ladies they are in siberia but i can pretend they're just missing
> 
> and before i forget: uprising fucked me up, dudes. like, damn. angela was so gorgeous. i made a [post about it on tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/post/159245584740/so-what-are-your-opinions-on-that-new-comic-and) if you want my opinions on it in full because i'm not going through them all here c':
> 
> also i cannot do headcanons today i am so... tired... and my life is super weird and stressful right now (mostly weird, now that friday is over). sorry. just. i'm really just straight up exhausted today and i can't promise the headcanons will be here in 2(+) weeks. but! with that being said - stay lovely, people!
> 
>  **EDIT** : art by the wonderful and amazing [@poltergieist](http://poltergieist.tumblr.com/), who is also the mod for the meme city discord (which is where the name for shitpost squad's chatroom comes from)! thank you dear <3


	73. OPERATION: TRUTH (part 5 of 6)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hana and co. take down the lumerico powerplant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone!! pride is this weekend! i hope you have a safe and fun time if you go and remember that i love you lots!
> 
> have a great day today <3
> 
> (also apologies for typos, i've only read through this like... once lmao)

Hanzo is a terrible driver, D.Va decides. That, or Sombra had actually programmed the pickup truck to drive with reckless abandon, which – quite honestly – D.Va wouldn’t put past her. It doesn’t really matter, though, because she’s far more focused on not getting flung off of the truck whenever Hanzo takes a sharp _too sharp that was way too sharp oh god_ turn, her knuckles white where they’re clenched around the tubing of the bomb, and she can feel how panicked her face looks, pale and eyes wide as she pokes her head above the pickup itself, looking ahead of them.

They’re lucky that the streets are clear – though this late at night, or perhaps it’s early in the day, she’s not sure, it isn’t too surprising. Even the sidewalks are clear of – well, everyone. Maybe it has something to do with them being neck-deep in Los Muertos territory? What D.Va can see of the blurring buildings they’re speeding by is proof of that, the walls littered with spray-painted tags and street art, the neatness and quaintness of Dorado slowly giving way to trash-ridden pavement and crumbling buildings hiding bursts of light, of fire, as they shoot past. That’s probably it, actually, and she doesn’t stop to think that they might be leaving said territory only to go trespass on another, and arguably more dangerous, enemy’s property.

Which is all well and good, but after a particularly heart-stopping turn that leaves D.Va biting back a scream so vehemently she can taste blood, McCree raises an unsteady hand to his ear and says into his comm, “You know, I don’t even have a driver’s license and I’m pretty sure _I_ can drive better than this.”

She chances a glance back to the cowboy in question, who is currently crouched pretty much directly behind her. He must be more fearless than she would’ve thought, because one hand is securing his hat to his head while the other lifts off of his ear to grab onto the bomb next to him, but she can see how his teeth are clenched and his eyes are narrowed; he’d sound pretty clam, at least, but as she turns ahead, she knows he’s anything but.

“ _Believe me_ ,” Hanzo says in the meantime, voice tight, “ _If I did not have to drive like this, I wouldn’t be_.”

“ _Sombra has this vehicle synchronized with her own translocation technology_ ,” Satya explains before McCree can ask, and she sounds mildly queasy. “ _Having Hanzo drive is a precaution, should the tech fail. As of this moment, we are following Sombra as she moves._ ”

“Where is she?” D.Va asks, hoping it wouldn’t end in her death as she lifts one hand to press once against her comm. She doesn’t care at this point; she’s on open mic now because she sure as hell isn’t going to risk holding on without both hands any longer than she has to. “She cannot be moving that quickly, and we saw her throw something and then disappear. Was that her translocator?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Satya says. “ _No doubt she is on the roofs._ ”

“ _Explains the speed,_ ” 76 grumbles. D.Va can see him if she strains her neck to glance up and over the bomb; he looks the most at ease out of the three of them, crouched with one hand braced against the bomb, rifle secured in the other arm, staring straight ahead. “ _A little warning would’ve been nice, though._ ”

“It’s Sombra,” McCree says, like this explains everything. “You can’t expect much of anything from her unless it benefits her directly.”

“ _Reassuring,_ ” 76 says, dry, instead of asking how McCree would know that like D.Va would have. The truck takes another heaving turn, and D.Va can’t stop the yelp from slipping out between her teeth, and naturally 76 then asks, “ _Are you alright?_ ”

“Fine,” D.Va says. “Never better. Fruity.”

“ _Peachy_.”

“I still do not understand where that expression came from, but yes, that.”

“Haven’t heard many southern colloquialisms yet, I take it,” McCree says with a huff of laughter.

“From that, I am fairly certain I never want to hear any,” D.Va shoots back without missing a beat, and she can’t help a small smile when even Satya gives a light laugh.

The conversation peters off afterwards, however, as the pinnacle of LumériCo powerplant edges into view, unassuming and sharp in the distance; D.va keeps her eyes fixed upon that single point as the truck continues to swerve forward, hair streaking behind her, purse secured to the bottom of the pickup bed with her knee, gun a comforting weight at her hip.

She has to wonder why Sombra is so intent on destroying the place – given how flighty and uncaring the woman seems, she has to doubt that it’s for any express purpose other than a vendetta. She’s the kind of person who holds grudges, that much D.Va can tell just from the short she had listened to her talk, but this was pretty dramatic... not to mention she had been so desperate from the start. There’s an ulterior motive in there somewhere; D.Va can’t parse what it is beyond maybe blowing up the five of them along with the plant, but there’s no way Sombra could have known who exactly from Overwatch would show up. If she was aiming to take out the big names, she had failed except for D.Va, and Sombra had been genuinely surprised when she had seen her.

Like most things, there’s no time to think about it right now. Sombra is perched on a ledge above them as they zoom by, and then McCree tumbles into D.Va and D.Va tumbles into the back window of the truck itself as Hanzo slams on the brakes with such severity that the tires screech. She manages to catch herself on her hands, hefting McCree’s weight as the momentum carries them both forward and then flings them back a bit, and it’s Satya, surprisingly, who’s shouting, “ _Do you not realize you are carrying a live explosive in this vehicle‽_ ”

“ _Oops_ ,” Sombra says, directly through their comm. The woman tilts her head at them as McCree pushes back, apologizing to D.Va under his breath as she waves it away – she’s not made of spun glass, she’s had far more arduous back in MEKA – and there’s laughter in her voice as she directs, “ _You will be driving from here on out, archer. When I open the door, just follow the path. It will lead you straight to the core –_ ”

“ _I am not moving this until I know you are inside the building with us_ ,” Hanzo says, and then, when he hears Sombra’s intake of breath to respond, he adds, “ _With the knowledge that you are not using a translocator._ ”

“ _Wow_ ,” Sombra says, and she actually sounds a bit impressed. “ _I’ll be joining you on the truck after I open the doors,_ pendejo. _Which I would’ve said, had you let me finish._ ”

“And why haven’t we met any resistance so far?” 76 asks. “Care to explain?”

“ _I called in a few favors,_ ” Sombra says airily, and then, “ _And before you get all hissy about that, the reason I warned you about them is because they may not have respected my terms. It seems we were lucky._ ”

76 is clearly not satisfied with this answer – D.Va can tell without even seeing him – but he remains silent. Hanzo says, “ _I have a suspicion that there will be a lot of fighting inside the plant, then._ ”

“ _I thought you said you_ read _the plans_ ,” Sombra sneers. “ _Your friends and I will be taking care of them. All you have to do is drive._ ”

“ _How foolproof_ ,” Hanzo mutters. D.Va is inclined to agree.

“ _I don’t see you backing out,_ ” Sombra says, and even from here D.Va can see her rolling her eyes. “ _Are you done whining? Can we start now?_ ”

“I notice you didn’t say anything about the whole translocator thing,” McCree drawls, and when D.Va glances back, he’s got one eyebrow raised.

Sombra flips him the bird and disappears from sight in a spray of purple pixels. A moment later, something lands on top of the bomb, small and circular, three white ridges with glowing purple at the center; another few seconds and the doors before them ease open with a hiss, parting from the center tor reveal what looks to be a path to drive supplies in. D.Va knits her brow at that – why would a powerplant have such a thing – but then she startles when there’s a click, whirring, and Sombra lands neatly no top of the bomb itself, the translocator swiftly disappearing into a pocket.

“There,” she says, turning her head so she’s staring McCree dead on. “Now you know; I won’t leave you in there to die. Can we finish this or not?”

“And you wonder why you don’t have friends,” McCree answers, to which Sombra scowls, and luckily for her, Hanzo is in fact a decent driver and doesn’t immediately unbalance her when he pedals the accelerator, though in doing so he cuts off her response.

The air is significantly cooler the moment the truck passes the threshold into the plant – sterile, too, a little stale, and D.Va glances around the tall ceilings and smooth walls, keenly aware that there are hidden eyes everywhere. Sombra herself has several holographic interfaces splayed in front of her, hands a blur as she types rapidly between them with only her legs securing her to the payload, and D.Va watches as a security camera slowly turns to face the wall, then another, then three. Perhaps they would get lucky and not set off any alarms, but she doubts that it’ll be that easy, especially so when Sombra’s eyes narrow and she jerks her head to the right.

“I see ‘em,” McCree says, voice hushed. It’s a bit unnecessary – the truck is silent, true, but it’s a little bit of an eyesore, and they are moving along out in the open. Dread and adrenaline run cold in D.Va’s blood as she looks up; they’re so exposed by clinging to the explosive between them, Sombra especially so from where she perches on top of it, hands darting from screen to screen as she mutters a string of Spanish under her breath. All of them collectively holding their breath as a security guard walks along a landing above them, yawning and running a hand down her face before she turns her head and –

The security guard shouts, one hand reaching for her comm, and that’s when Sombra and McCree springs into action. Her translocator arcs through the air and she disappears in a flare of purple as McCree takes a single shot and downs the guard before she can get there – she reappears near an interface as alarms begin to blare for exactly two seconds, and Sombra is scowling as she glances over her shoulder; two seconds too long, D.Va realizes, and that’s when the lights go dark. The truck’s headlamps are on, thankfully, but it only allows sight directly ahead of them.

“ _Keep going,_ ” Sombra says after a moment – she’s barely visible save for the faint purple glow of one of her holoscreens. “ _I turned the alarms off by redirecting power to another sector, but I will try to get the lights back on. Two guards have responded to the alarm, and more are on the way._ ”

“We hear ya,” McCree says, and that’s when Hanzo slams the accelerator. D.Va tightens her grip on her gun and the bomb, wind threatening to undo her bun and eyes watering against the zephyr. They’re in a straight hallway at the moment, so she can see the exactly moment the two guards step out, weapons at the ready, but whatever they are expecting, it’s not a truck barreling directly at them, and they’re smart enough to dive out of the way as Hanzo blazes past.

“Leave ‘em,” McCree says, when D.Va takes in a breath and moves to turn around, gun in hand; “Sombra’ll handle it.”

“You seem confident,” D.Va says, turning her head to look at him. Across from her, 76 is doing the same.

“I’ve seen her work,” McCree says with almost forced nonchalance. “Trust me, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Sure enough, when D.Va glances back at the rapidly-shrinking figures behind them, there’s a flash of purple, the unmistakable rain of bullets from a submachine gun, and then Sombra’s gone, quick as she had come. In her wake lay two unmoving bodies shot in the head, ad D.Va grimaces and turns forward, crouched low and ready as Hanzo slows the vehicle to take a turn, still going fast enough that her heart keeps hammering in her chest.

( _What do we do?_ Hana whispers. D.Va ignores her.)

“ _You’ve got a bigger group ahead of you_ ,” Sombra says presently. “ _It looks like one of them is setting up a sniper’s perch. You’ll be exposed while I get the door ahead of you open._ ”

Hanzo mutters something under his breath, inaudible over comm. Whatever it is makes Satya let out a small huff of laughter.

“Any chance you’ll get those lights workin’?” McCree asks, casually reloading his revolver like they aren’t moving so fast D.Va might fly right off of the truck if it so much as touched an errant bump.

“ _I’m working as fast as I can_ ,” Sombra says, sounding uncharacteristically serious. “ _D.Va, there is a hallway with stairs you can take to get to the sniper’s level. It will be on your left._ ”

“Okay,” D.Va says, and she really shouldn’t have taken her purse with her but she’ll make do, adjusting the strap so it swings over her shoulder and rests on her opposite hip. “Ready.”

“ _They are set up towards the center of the path, barely out of the truck’s line of sight. The rest are on the ground – do you see them?_ ”

“ _Yes_ ,” Hanzo says, and the truck begins to slow, unnoticeably at first and right up to the point where D.Va can release her white-knuckled grip on the bomb and occupy herself with her handgun instead, shuffling forward until she can press her side against the truck, poking her head up once before ducking down out of view. Per Hanzo’s assertion, a number of security guards are taking up strategic positions in the limited space around them, quiet and efficient and not at all hidden in the darkness of the place, surprisingly. To better keep track of each other, perhaps?

There’s no time to wonder as the truck slows and D.Va spies the hallway with the stairs, and when 76 fluidly moves above the truck and opens fire, she takes a few moments to steady herself before leaping into a coiled roll and making a dash for the doorway.

There’s shouting following her movement, though she manages to make it through before anyone can get a clear shot at her. Her heart pounds in her chest as she takes the stairs two at a time with light steps, nudging open the door to the second-floor balcony as quietly as she can. It’s a slide door, hissing open too softly to be heard over the gunfire, and then she crouches down and slowly creeps forward, pressing hard against the fence opposite the wall. The sniper is somewhere ahead of her, possibly around a corner, and D.Va has to remind herself that she has a schedule to keep, remaining crouched but moving fast.

She takes the sniper by surprise, at least – they barely have time to look at her before she has a gun to their temple, pulling the trigger before she can really think about it. There’s not enough force for the energy pulse to pass all the way through, but it’s still – there’s blood, there’s a lot of it, possibly brain matter and D.Va doesn’t have time to focus on it as she throws herself away to avoid having any of it land on her. The body lolls to the side, slumping to the floor, and she glances over at the abandoned sniper rifle and, after a moment’s hesitation, shoves the guard aside and picks the rifle up .It’s heavier than she’s used to, and it’s been a long time, but –

(She’s never – she’s killed up close, but point-blank is different without her mech, the _smell_ , the viscera, she wants to retch – )

“No time, no time,” D.Va mutters with a hard swallow, dashing along the landing until she can get a clear shot at LumériCo’s people, balancing the rifle on the fence and steadying it with her free hand as she puts her eye to the scope. At this angle, she can nab the ones behind the cover, and she lines up a shot, takes a breath, and –

(She takes the shot, but she closes her eyes before she sees. It’s better this way, especially because there’s a sound that tells her she didn’t miss.)

“ _Hana, are you – that’s a sniper rifle_ ,” 76 says through comm, though she notices that he doesn’t actually glance up at her, probably able to tell by sight or by sound. Mostly likely by sound. It doesn’t matter, and it takes conscious effort for D.Va to get herself to focus.

“I learned how to use them in Basic,” D.Va says in response to the unasked question. “I am not great with them.” She swivels the gun, keeping low as she carefully takes aim. None of the guards have taken interest in her yet, though she knows that won’t be true for much longer even if she doesn’t get another kill. (Hana shudders.) “I will be down in a moment.”

“ _Lights up_ ,” Sombra says, and D.Va curses the woman’s abysmal timing as the lights flare on brightly, momentarily blinding all parties as they adjust to the change, as she pulls the trigger. The shot goes wide and earns her at least one guard’s attention, and with that, D.Va drops the rifle and ducks back down below the fence to scuttle down the stairs, letting McCree and 76 clean up the rest as Sombra adds, “ _On my way to join you. Might take me a while._ ”

“ _We will wait_ ,” Hanzo says, and his tone books no argument.

“ _Aw, so you_ do _care_ ,” Sombra coos, only to laugh, harsh and cold, when Hanz lets out a dismissive huff of air. “ _I have isolated the alarms to this sector of the plant; after you take out this group, we should be in the clear. We are close to core, too._ ”

D.Va pauses at the foot of the stairs, pressed against the wall and gingerly peering out of her cover. Hanzo has disappeared from the driver’s seat and 76 is using the truck as cover, listening for breaks in fire before moving up to shoot. McCree has since dodged over to a pillar supporting the upper landing with Satya carefully going for the flank, and D.Va takes a few shots with her handgun as one of the guards pokes their head out of cover.

It doesn’t matter how much training the LumériCo employees have, in the end, which doesn’t surprise D.Va in the slightest. Anyone who risks finding different cover is easy picking for Hanzo, and when Satya goes in with her photon projector, it startles their enemies into 76 and McCree’s killzone. By the time the fight’s over and D.Va’s hopped back onto the truck, Sombra’s drawing up behind them while Hanzo waits nea the driver’s door, everyone else secured and ready to go.

“Strange,” Sombra says as she surveys the bodies; “I was expecting more hostiles. I wonder where the rest of them are?”

“Let’s not wait here and test our luck,” 76 says, and Hanzo makes a noise of agreement, slipping back into the truck proper. “How much further?”

“Less than a minute, if Shimada continues to drive like he has.” Sombra grabs hold of the back of the bomb, submachine gun in one hand as Hanzo gently urges the truck forward. “Provided the guard rotation is still consistent, it’s a clear shot from here to there.”

No one says anything to that. The firefight’s made them all a little more cautious, and D.Va tightens her grip on her handgun wordlessly. Just a bit longer, just a bit more of this, and then – Siberia. More in Siberia, but there it would _matter_ , and she shoves that thought aside for now as they continue through brightly-lit halls uninterrupted.

“The core should be just up ahead,” Sombra says eventually. “It will take me a bit to open the door.”

“Nice to know you won’t set off any alarms,” McCree observes, and then, “Just don’t take too long.”

“Have some faith,” Sombra says with a snort, and as if on cue, Hanzo begins to slow the truck down as – it looks like a wall, honestly, and D.Va watches with a creeping sense of trepidation as the white door comes into view. Next to it is an interface of some kind built directly into the surface of the door, and Sombra hops off of the truck to trot over to it.

“Seems strangely obvious,” 76 notes, inflection unreadable. “It’s really that easy to get in?”

“There should have been more guards,” Sombra says, already pulling up a plethora of purple-hued screens and tapping away; “What’s the expression? ‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’?”

“You remembered,” McCree says, sounding faintly amused, and Sombra hums under her breath. After that, there’s silence, and D.Va releases a slow breath as the quiet stretches on with no one from LumériCo so much as making a peep. Hanzo and Satya are both peering out of their respective windows while McCree and 76 keep their eyes trained on the exit, and – against her better judgment, she reaches into her purse.

It takes her a moment to summon the courage to unlock the screen, and another few seconds to check the chatrooms.

[ GENERAL  ]

[10JQK]: So we’re all agreed on listening to synaethesia auditivia?  
[Stray]: Remind me who put you in charge of music, 10?  
[EVIE]: I mean they do have good taste  
[ΩMEGA]: plus the omnics are still blasting the song reynolds’ squad wrote and that shit gets old fast  
[Reynolds]: Apologies.  
[cr01ss4nt]: really makes you wonder where they found it  
[Primality]: internet? everything’s on there so  
[10JQK]: Okay but listen to this: this is one of the _exclusive_ copies of auditivia!!  
[AppleCIder]: it wasn’t easy getting ahold of that, btw.  
[Stray]: Why aren’t you in charge of the music?  
[AppleCIder]: i wasn’t the one who got it.  
[Stray]: Oh. Right.  
[Stray]: Sorry.  
[AbsOlitE]: I am as well. It’s never easy.  
[AppleCIder]: yeah, well. i’m not d.va so at least it isn’t my fault.  
[CaerBaer]: She’s not even here. How could it be her fault?  
[AppleCIder]: oh so now you’re defending her?  
[CaerBaer]: I’m just saying.  
[ApppleCIder]: whatever. just play the music.  
[10JQK]: Apparently it has healing properties and other things like that depending on the song!  
[tReason]: i don’t buy that, but ok.  
[LockE]: Wow, damn. It’s like listening to luck?  
[ccccc]: turn it up dj!!!

“Done,” Sombra announces before D.Va can tap into her squad’s chatroom, and she slides her phone back into her purse, the ninety-nine plus notification symbol burned into her retina. Sombra trots back over and hops onto the truck again soon enough and the door, as promised, slides open silently and quickly. She grins as Hanzo begins to ease the truck forward and says, “Just get up close, get off of this thing, and then we can...”

She trails off, and D.Va doesn’t know why until she pokes her head above the truck itself, only to take in a hard gasp of air. Her entire body freezes in place, and she’s unable to look away as her eyes scour across the room; McCree whistles and says, “That explains the lack of guards.”

“I don’t understand,” Sombra says, staring at the passing bodies as Hanzo gingerly drives them forward, truck floating above the ground and skimming over the corpses. Her eyes are narrowed and she holsters her submachine gun in favor for a holoscreen, tapping rapidly at the air. “There was nothing in the system to indicate this had happened. Where is everyone? Where are the scientist? They can’t all be gone.”

“Someone would have been made aware of an attack of this scale,” 76 says – not placating but matter-of-fact. (Hana feels faintly queasy.) “If nothing showed up in the system, then maybe all of them _are_ dead.”

D.Va raises her gaze forward, finally. Behind her, McCree is murmuring something to himself, and across from her, 76 is studying the passing bodies closely. She can’t even begin to guess what Satya is feeling, and she takes a breath and makes herself take stock of her surroundings.

The core is fairly unassuming – a lot of machinery, the same color as the walls and floors and ceilings, a soft hum, and a deep pool of water. At the base of the pool is the dangerous stuff, if she remembers correctly – and when the truck stops, she makes a move to get off and instead gets a good, long look at one of the bodies. The woman had been shot and it hadn’t been clean, ragged edges and congealing blood, and D.Va glances towards her face and recoils physically: it looks like the life had been drained out of her, skin stretched tautly over bones, vein bumping upwards like mountains under papery skin, and it is disgusting. She would throw up, if she was a different person.

“This is as close as we are going to get,” Hanzo says in the meantime, pushing out of the driver’s seat, all business and no-nonsense. He keeps his eyes carefully averted from the ground. “Sombra, how do you suggest we lift the bomb from the truck bed?”

“We all have arms,” Sombra says, still hyperfocused on her screens, and when McCree snorts, she amends, “Most of us. We can just roll it off.”

“If it explodes while it does that, I am going to haunt your corpse,” D.Va says. She almost adds _no pun intended_ , but she has tact and also the thought make her a little nauseous.

“It will not,” Satya says lightly. “I promise you that. If you’d like, I could make a hardlight ramp.”

“Levers,” 76 agrees. “Let’s get this over with.”

There’s something caught in his voice, something D.Va can’t quite pinpoint – a tense edge to it all, maybe. Whatever the case, she picks her way towards the side as Satya maneuvers around the truck and the bodies, hands weaving through the air, Hanzo shadowing her movements. 76 and McCree join D.Va shortly thereafter, Sombra only moving just enough to avoid getting crushed as she scrolls through endless holoprojections, and it’s only when the bomb hits the ground – D.Va winces when it drops into a body with an awful crunching sound – that she mutters, “ _Siempre se entromete._ ”

Spanish. It’s clear McCree understands, though, because he says, “ _Qu_ _é?_ ”

“Nothing, nothing,” Sombra says, flapping a hand, and with the motion all of her screens disappear in a flash of violet. “It seems an old colleague of mine heard about my venture and decided to lend an unwelcome hand.” She gives a disgusted look down at the bodies scattered about the room. “Let’s just activate the bomb. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

“Agreed,” Hanzo says stiffly, and D.Va’s already figured out that there are only thirteen bodies in the room and that this is a huge plant. Sombra’s – colleague is either very thorough or very careful, given every single employee is seemingly none the wise to the havoc wreaked here. Whatever the case, she doesn’t intend to stick around to find out if this is false, and Hanzo says, “I suppose I am driving again?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Sombra says, moving to stand in front of the bomb. Satya joins her, reluctantly, and Hanzo again sticks close to her side; D.Va, McCree, and 76 mount the truck bed and grab onto the edges. After a moment, 76 reaches out a hand, and Hana clasps onto his arm tightly, sharing a knowing glance: they can only hope it will be enough to keep them secure. “Everyone ready?”

“As much as we can be,” 76 says.

A few seconds pass – then Satya, Hanzo, and Sombra dart for the truck, and the latter says, “We have ten minutes to get out. No rest stops, _bueno_?”

“I need to use the toilet,” McCree bleats, only to laugh, harsh and short, when Sombra spits something at him in Spanish. Hanzo ignores them both, expertly turning the truck and flooring it out of the room, leaving the explosive behind, and D.Va clenches onto the truck and 76’s sleeve, head bowed. She doesn’t dare close her eyes; the image of the gaunt human face will haunt her, and then she lets out a startled shout when a sudden turn almost ends with her sprawling off of the truck.

“I said ten minutes, _pendejo_!” Sombra snaps. She’s behind 76, holding onto McCree while he holds onto her, and her scowl is sharp and cutting. “You do not need to drive like a madman!”

“ _I’d rather not be in the general vicinity when it goes off,_ ” Hanzo says, deceptively mild, “ _If it’s all the same to you_.” Another rough turn, and it’s only 76’s white-knuckled grip on her arm that keeps her from flying off completely.

“You’re going to kill us,” 76 retorts, daring Hanzo to argue. “At least slow down when you take a turn – ”

As if on cue, all the lights in the area flash to red and an earsplitting alarm starts blaring from all sides. D.Va grits her teeth and remains crouched and braced as best as she can.

“ _You were saying, Commander?_ ” Hanzo says, insufferable almost, and 76 lets out a frustrated noise but nothing else.

“Thought you said you disabled all the alarms,” McCree adds, sounding completely and utterly placid despite the situation.

“Shut up,” Sombra answers, shooting him a narrow-eyed look. “My plans are good, but they are never foolproof. I certainly did not expect a colleague to repay a favor.”

“You call this a favor?”

“He certainly seems to think it’s one,” Sombra replies darkly. Another swerve, and now the exit is in sight and D.Va breathes as short huff of air of relief. “This will make leaving harder than anticipated; no doubt local authorities have been alerted.”

“ _We will need to split up_ ,” Satya says over comm. “ _It will be easier to throw off tails if some of us go on foot. Hana in particular cannot be seen._ ”

Right, because having an international star seen committing something very, very illegal would be bad. It also wouldn’t be the first time – Rio comes to mind – but MEKA had been very clear that she might fall out of public favor with any more transgressions, and she values her country too much to risk one more smear on her reputation. “Fine,” 76 says in the meantime. “Teams of two.”

“I will go with McCree,” D.Va says, as they are both on the left side of the truck bed while 76 ad Sombra are on the left. She shoots McCree a smirk, which he returns with a grin. “Where shall we rendezvous?”

“Same place we were dropped off,” 76 says. “We’ll need to call Lena, too.”

“ _Later_ ,” Hanzo says. They’re almost out of the plant, and D.Va can see lghts from police cars already lining the exterior, even with the blaring red of the power plant’s internal alarms. “ _I will break past the barricade, and once I slow down, that is your time to run._ ”

“Understood,” 76 says. He glances over at D.Va, just once, and she thinks he’s going to say something pointlessly inane like _be careful_ , but instead he says, “Call for help if you need it.”

“We’ll be just fine,” McCree drawls, seemingly entirely unconcerned. He isn’t, but D.Va’s not about to rat him out. “Ready when you are.”

The opportunity arises far more quickly than D.Va would’ve liked – the door leading out of the powerplant opens, outside a line of cars awaits them, and instead of slowing down, Hanzo slams the metaphorical gas. D.Va can’t hold back her scream as they crash through the too-small space between the police cars, and then McCree’s grabbed onto her and they both jump and roll to the ground, taking off at a dead spring. There are shouts behind them, no shots yet, car doors slamming and sirens blaring, and she shouts, “McCree and I are en route!”

“ _Sombra and I are moving_ ,” 76 answers a heartbeat later, and a panicked flutter in her chest settles, just like that, even as she pumps her arms and legs to keep pace with McCree’s longer strides. “ _Hanzo, status?_ ”

“ _He is a bit busy at the moment_ ,” Satya answers, and she sounds winded, just a little. D.Va would worry about her if she already didn’t have enough to do herself. “ _Most of the cars appear to be following us. If need be, I can use hardlight to deter them._ ”

“ _Better not. We don’t need Vishkar breathing down our necks about one of their architechs being in Dorado_.”

“ _It would be an effective way to communicate my two weeks’ notice_ ,” Satya says mildly, and Sombra’s peal of laughter echoes clear as crystal through the comms.

“Left up here,” McCree says, and D.Va follows without question as he adds, “Got a few on foot tailin’ us. Suppose killin’ ‘em is out of question?”

“Yes,” D.Va says before anyone else can, and then, “Keep running,” and so they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!
> 
> sorry for the delay between chapters - finals were bad and summer is busy busy busy! i also had to cut this chapter shorter than i would've liked because i need to get back to one of my betas about some things. apologies! i'll try to be timely and update two weeks from now with something a bit more... concrete. because nothing much has been revealed i mean. so. stay on your toes! i wish i had more for you, but it was very, very hard to get even this little thing up ;o;
> 
> also i ran a d&d session on wednesday- you can check out the blog [here](https://solarwindandcosmicash.tumblr.com/)! it was a lot of fun and i'll be doing more of it in the future. or, of course, come find me on my [personal tumblr](https://snowsheba.tumblr.com/)!


	74. OPERATION: TRUTH (part 6 of 6)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dorado is squared away, the team arrives in siberia, and hana takes command
> 
> ft. chatlogs for days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! it's been a while hasn't it? lol. hover over korean characters for translations, and keep in mind: **just because you can't see something doesn't mean nothing is there...**
> 
> alternate summary: cram as many references as you can with the singular word 'titan'

Jack can feel eyes on him.

It’s not Sombra, who’s almost keeping up with him, occasionally throwing her translocators ahead of her to catch up with him when she falls behind. Hanzo and Satya are on a different street. Hana and Jesse are far in the opposite direction. He might just be paranoid, but that’s gotten him this far for a reason, and he _knows_ he’s being watched and he can’t figure out from where.

“I’m going onto the roofs,” Sombra says breathlessly after a few minutes. “It will be faster that way, at least for me. Send me the navpoint?”

“ _I will guide you_ ,” Satya says, tiredly, and Jack merely grunts assent as Sombra takes a moment to aim before throwing. She’s doing it while moving, even, and it’s impressive when it lands perfectly on one of the buildings around them and she vanishes in a spray of purple pixels. He listens as her pitter-patter footsteps vanish into the distance, and just like that – he’s alone.

Well, not really.

“I know you’re there,” he says aloud, because he’d seen the way the skin had stretched over the bones of those in the power plant, near the reactor, the unholy blasts from shotguns he knew from a time long, long ago. “If you have something to say, say it.”

For a moment, there’s nothing. Jack continues to run, feet tapping the ground and sprinting as lightly as he can manage, the streets deserted as sirens blare into the silence. Then he hears a soft whisper, sees a flash of darkness disappear into the shadows beside him, and he slows as inky blackness takes form just ahead of him, bone-white mask gleaming through his visor.

“Gabe,” he says, voice hard, the name unfamiliar and clunky on his tongue as he comes to a stop, rifle drawn and ready. Hana’s haunted expression flashes in his mind’s eye, and his grip tightens.

“Jack,” Gabriel allows, voice grating and painful.

Behind him, an explosion, loud and enormous and it screams against Jack’s ears and it shakes the ground and he stumbles. Gabriel remains tall and imperious, but he hasn’t drawn, and Jack takes that as a good sign.

“Keeping an eye on Sombra?” Jack says, because he’d suspected but he isn’t sure.

Gabriel grunts. “You really think it’s smart to let her into your base?”

“What better way to keep an eye on her?” He levels his rifle at him. “Say what you want and go, Gabe. I don’t have time to kill you.”

Gabriel is quiet for some time. After a few moments, he says, “Talon wanted her, you know.”

Jack knows, instantly, to whom he is referring, and he doesn’t quite register the moment he pulls the trigger – only that Gabriel takes the shot with just the tiniest of winces, straightening up slowly as black smoke leaks from the wound before wisping away into the air.

“She would’ve made a valuable addition,” Gabriel goes on, soft, as if Jack hadn’t just shot him with intent to kill. “She’s young and influential. Would’ve done wonders to their PR.”

“Like she’d ever agree to help you,” Jack growls, but he has to wonder at the strange, out-of-place hesitance in Gabriel’s voice.

“There are ways to make it work,” Gabriel says, and his words – stutter, almost, though it’s masked when the shotguns are in his hands, pointed straight at him. “Just give up, Jack. Sombra will use you until it’s no longer convenient, and then she’ll throw you under the bus. Talon has eyes and ears everywhere.” Jack sees the minute movement in his clawed glove and leaps into a roll, dodging the first shot. Gabriel’s voice is flat when he intones, “You can’t win.”

“I don’t care about winning,” Jack snarls, quickly moving to put space between them. Gabriel only advances, impending and unstoppable, and every shot Jack takes seems to do nothing at all. “I’m here to protect my people.”

“What happened to the man who cared about everything?” Gabriel asks, grating and low. “You’d drop everything for a single person, when the world’s fate is at stake? You know what Talon aims to do.”

“Why are you telling me? Why do you _care_?” Jack hisses, dodging behind a stone wall in his way. Not a moment too soon; he hears and feels, even, the BBs dig into the masonry, and he pushes off the wall and takes off in a sprint. Sombra must have set him up – no, more likely that Gabriel had been watching them the moment they had arrived. “What is Talon ‘winning’? You say we know what you aim to do, but I’ll be honest, there’s no one in the world who does.”

“You’ve heard about Doomfist,” Gabriel says. “Let that be a hint to you.”

Jack doesn’t look back as he skids around a corner, trusting in his mental compass to guide him in the right direction. He doesn’t say anything either; the day that Winston had put Doomfist in prison had been a memorable one, to say the least. Was Gabriel suggesting he had escaped? If so, when, and why hadn’t Winston heard about it or tried to do anything about it?

(Lena had vanished from time in the middle of that battle. Doomfist had torn her harness directly off of her, had crushed it in his hands. If anyone had a vendetta, it would be her and Winston, and the fact that Gabriel mentions this now is concerning in a way Jack can’t quite name.)

“If you’re trying to convince me to give up the fight, you’re doing terribly,” Jack says into the air, keeping his breathing measured and even as he pumps his legs. There’s a sense of impending doom curling in his gut, now, knowing that something is very amiss – not just this whole mission but everything else relating to Talon, to Siberia. (To Hana.) “If you’re trying to kill me, you’re doing even worse.”

“Quit while you’re ahead, Jack,” Gabriel says. It’s a disembodied voice; Jack has no idea where it comes from, even as his ears strain to pinpoint a location. “This is your last warning.”

“You won’t touch her,” Jack answers, hard and fast and certain. _I won’t stop fighting until this world is safe again_.

“What I do is not up to you,” Gabriel says, and there’s a shot, BBs skittering across the ground immediately to his left, and then silence. Jack knows he’s alone, now, that Gabriel’s disappeared into black smoke, and he only continues forward, exertion burning hot in his muscles.

And so he runs.

* * *

In retrospect, outrunning law enforcement on foot isn’t the best idea they’ve ever had. This occurs to D.Va about two minutes into the flat-out sprint for the rendezvous area; she’s been maintaining her workout schedule when possible, but McCree’s legs are longer, and even though the impending threat of arrest puts the pressure on, she’s already panting. In any other circumstance she would’ve called on her MEKA just for its rocket boosters, but she doesn’t want to risk being seen with it. International relations with her home country are already shaky enough.

“Could really use a teleporter right now,” McCree says as they went.

“Or a beach vacation,” she responds, barely managing a laugh through her controlled breathing.

“Too bad we won’t get either,” McCree puffs, and there is nothing else to be said as they reach the end of a winding alleyway and slow slightly, so he can peer around the corner before they book it. Once he’s checked things out and given a hand signal that D.Va interprets as _follow me_ , they set off again, brisk and fast and her legs are burning by this point but there’s no stopping now.

“ _Status_ ,” 76 barks in their ears.

“ _Satya used hardlight to stop our pursuers, and we have left the truck to continue on foot_ ,” Hanzo says promptly. “ _ETA fifteen minutes._ ”

“Not sure where we are, but we are nearing the town edges,” D.Va says before McCree can. “Ten minutes, I think.”

“ _Good. Sombra will be there in a few. I’ve had to dodge law enforcement, so I’ll be delayed._ ”

“ _Do you require assistance?_ ” Satya asks, slightly breathless.

“ _I’m fine. Wait until everyone is there before calling for Lena. Let me know if you have any issues._ ”

“Roger that,” D.Va says, and then to McCree, panting, “Do you think we should go to his location anyway?”

“Dunno that we have any way of knowin’ where he is right now, darlin’,” McCree replies, slowing slightly. They’re far away from the plant now and out of Los Muertos territory; it’s unlikely they’ll be caught now, though there’s no telling for whether their faces had been spotted on security cameras somewhere. “’Sides, he’s a grown man, he can handle himself.”

“Asking for help isn’t a bad thing,” D.Va grumbles—heaven knows she had to learn that the hard way. “But I guess you’re right. Lead on.”

He does, deftly, in fact—she has no idea where they’re going, but McCree guides them with seemingly effortless speed, maintaining his rapid pace even as his breathing becomes labored and keeping a careful eye out for anyone who might try to stop them. D.Va’s just tired at this point, sweating through her dark clothing and wishing she’d tied her hair up in a bun, and she wondered what people thought of them as they raced through the streets, this small woman with a man dressed as a cowboy sprinting across the distance.

Not that it matters, she supposes, feeling her legs burn as they breach the outskirts of town, houses becoming sparser and sparser until mostly trees are surrounding them, and it’s only then that McCree slows to a jog, huffing and puffing. D.Va manages to pull up beside him, feeling both exhausted and a little exhilarated, and eventually she says, “I always hated running.”

“Preferred swimmin’ when it came to cardio, myself,” McCree says. When she glances over, she can see the tired grin on his face. “More sweatin’, but you can’t feel it that way.” He grunts as he slows to a walk, and D.Va gratefully slows with him, feeling the pain lessening in her legs as he adds, “Gonna be a hot one today, too, I bet.”

“Hopefully we will be out of here before then,” D.Va muses, to which McCree made a wordless sound of agreement.

Not surprisingly, Hanzo and Satya are already waiting at the rendezvous point by the time D.Va and McCree make it – it’s a small clearing between the trees, enough room for the Thunderbird to hover, far enough away from the town and beach to be out of sight. More surprising is that Sombra is there as well, crouched on the grass and looking pouty and put-out as she gingerly tests the hardlight bonds secured around her wrists, and it’s McCree who says, “She’s a prisoner now?”

“I do not want to risk anything,” Satya says primly. She’s seated on a hardlight stool, hands folded neatly on her crossed legs, the barest gleam of golden ribbon between her fingers. Further beyond the clearing, Hanzo has his bow and seems to be scanning the area. “She is still affiliated with Talon.”

“Look, I’m in it for the good fight,” Sombra says, hunching over with a sigh. She looks tired, oddly enough, and D.Va notes the sun creeping slowly over the horizon beyond the trees they were sheltering in. “LumériCo had it coming to them. Overwatch – this new Overwatch – hasn’t done anything terrible.” A beat. “Yet.”

“Is this supposed to be reassuring?” Satya says, biting.

“Yes, actually,” Sombra says, and then, “Ah, your truant _comandante_ arrives. Hello, Seventy-six.”

“Sombra,” 76 says, slowing to a walk. He doesn’t even look winded, though D.Va would guess he’d been sprinting for the past several minutes, if not more. “Everyone in one piece?”

“Yes,” Satya says. “I’ve already called for Lena.”

76 nods at that and glances over to D.Va. She gives a nod in return, looking for a bare spot to take a seat, and in the end she plops onto the ground next to Satya, crossing her legs beneath her and leaning forward with a sigh. McCree does the same further away, extending a leg and stretching out the muscles, and then 76 crouches down beside her and says quietly, “You okay?”

( _No_ , Hana thinks.)

“M’fine,” D.Va says, not looking up. The grass pokes at the material of her clothes, almost itchy but not quite. “Didn’t have any issues on the way here.”

He nods and looks to Satya. “How about you and Hanzo, Symmetra?”

“As mentioned, I used hardlight to allow us to escape,” Satya says without inflection. She’s rubbing her thumb against the ribbon, absently, a little slower; seems she’d had some time to collect herself, at least a little. “Which is unfortunate. Vishkar will know it was me, of course, but the world at large will also know their tech is involved.”

“It will not reflect on Overwatch, though,” Sombra says, and her eyes glint in the limited light when D.Va glances over. “Of that, you can rest easy.”

“That is something, at least,” Satya says with a slight shake of her head, and then she asks, “Your run here was uneventful as well?”

“For the most part,” 76 says. “Had to dodge law enforcement, like I said. Took a bit of a detour, but it all worked out.” Something about the way he says it suggests – not lying, per se, but evasiveness. D.Va makes a note to ask him about it later.

“I, for one, will be happy never havin’ to run like that again,” McCree volunteers from where he’s leaning over one leg. Stretching still, D.Va thinks; she should probably do the same at some point. “Reminds me of all the laps Gabe made me do back in the day.”

76 stiffens, just for a moment, before he says, “He only made you do those because you kept fucking with people.”

“Not my fault they couldn’t hear me comin’. I had _spurs_ later on, even.”

“Sure. And the week when none of the toilets worked wasn’t your fault, either?”

“That was at least partially Genji’s fault, too – ”

Hana rolls her eyes, tuning out the conversation in favor of taking out her phone. Now that they’re all safe, relatively, and that her heart isn’t hammering in her chest, it seems like a good time to check in again. The mere act of opening the chatroom makes her faintly nauseous, but she pushes through, taking in a deep breath and beginning to type.

[ 밈 시티 ]

[D.Va]: please someone tell me what’s going on  
[D.Va]: what happened? where’s mim and tango?  
[D.Va]: apple? youngblood? anyone?

Breathless moments, ones that feel like minutes when they are only seconds. Then:

[MIM] : d.va.

Her breath catches. _No, no, no…_

[D.Va]: i wasn’t even there  
[MIM]: it’s not your fault  
[D.Va]: i could’ve stopped it if i had just _been_ there  
[D.Va]: maybe it’s not my fault, but i could’ve  
[D.Va]: i should’ve done something  
[AppleCIder]: shut the fuck up.

She’s so startled that her hands lift from her phone and she almost drops it.

[AppleCIder]: what the hell does it even matter anymore. you weren’t here when it happened and this isn’t about you whining about yourself and what you could’ve done.  
[AppleCIder]: you _chose_ to leave us here. you _chose_ this.  
[MIM]: yoomi  
[AppleCIder]: we’ve been friends for years, d.va. you’ve been friends with haneul for years.  
[AppleCIder]: and, what, you leave us behind for overwatch? not only that but you desert MEKA first?  
[MIM]: yoomi  
[AppleCIder]: did we really mean that little to you? so little that you didn’t bother contacting us until you’d been missing from MEKA for months?  
[AppleCIder]: i should’ve fucking known. Overwatch is clearly more important than us. go ahead, prance on over here and save the fucking world again.  
[AppleCIder]: i don’t care anymore.  
[MIM]: yoomi. you know that’s not fair.  
[AppleCIder]: who gives a shit about fairness? not like we were ever dealt that card. not like it bothers d.va any.  
[D.Va]: apple, i never would have wanted this  
[D.Va]: i didn’t know something like it would’ve happened and i’m so, so sorry i couldn’t be there when it happened  
[AppleCIder]: shut up!  
[MIM]: yoomi, c’mon, please  
[MIM]: d.va, i’ll tell you what happened later  
[MIM]: just give us a sec  
[D.Va]: ... ok  
[D.Va]: i’ll see you both soon  
[MIM]: yeah  
[MIM]: we’ll be waiting  
[AppleCIder]: i won’t.

“Lena says she will be here in about an hour,” Satya says, interrupting McCree and 76’s inane conversation, and a few moments pass before she says, “I would like some time to myself, if that is possible.”

“’Course,” McCree says, and 76 nods agreement. “Take your time.”

Satya gets off of her stool, dissipating the molecules into speckles of light moments later with a wave of her hand and a nod, moving a short distance away from him, 76, D.Va, and Sombra before recreating it, back turned as she takes a seat. D.Va watches her for a few moments, trying to get her brain to do something other than repeat the words _it’s not your fault_ over and over again—eventually, though, she gives up and turns to 76. He glances over when she shifts, lying on her side and using one of his legs as a pillow.

“I’ll wake you up when it’s time,” he says as she settles in, and she gives a nod as she closes her eyes. She’s not expecting to get any sleep, not in the least, but anything would be better than letting her mind create horrible scenarios on horrible scenarios, or... something. She’s not sure. She’s tired, though, and nervous, and scared, and being close to him is reassuring in its own way, as is the quiet conversation between him and McCree soon after.

She doesn’t know how long it had taken for her to doze off, only that she wakes up with a start when 76 taps her shoulder. It’s lighter out, or at least the sun has risen, and she feels prickly and uncomfortable in her darker clothes as she pushes herself to a seated position, waiting for the world to settle before getting to her feet. Above them, Tracer is lowering the Thunderbird to their position; further away, Sombra and Hanzo speak to each other as Satya stares out at the horizon. She looks a bit more put-together, and Hana rolls her shoulders and feels bones pop as 76 lets out a quiet sigh.

“Are you okay?” she asks him, because she’d forgotten to earlier.

“Yeah,” he answers, quiet. She can barely hear him over the hum of the VTOL, and she leans in closer as he adds, “We’ll talk after the situation in Siberia’s been sorted out.”

“Okay,” she agrees, feeling a little lost. Anxiety curls sharp and hard in her gut, and she wavers between checking her phone and turning it off. _Later,_ she thinks, even though later will inevitably be inside the Thunderbird, and she says, “Any news from the front?”

“Angela checked in a while ago to say that there haven’t been any more casualties for MEKA pilots,” 76 says, and Hana lets out a long, inaudible sigh. He puts his hand on her shoulder, arm around her back, as he adds, “They’ve managed to seal most of the entrances to the omnium in the meantime, though, which means they’ll probably be moving in soon.”

“I see,” Hana says. Her expertise will be sorely needed in that regard; MEKAs are deadly in close quarters, but only if the pilots knew the layout and could coordinate with each other, and she’s had more experience than most. “I don’t suppose she would have—found—”

“Your squadmate?” 76 guesses, and Hana is wordless when she nods. He squeezes her shoulder, just once, in silent support, and she lets out another shaky sigh as he says, “They haven’t retrieved their body yet. Once the omnium’s been shut down.”

“Okay,” she says, closing her eyes when they begin to sting, and she says more quietly, “Okay,” as the Thunderbird completes its descent.

* * *

[ SQUAD LEADER CHAT  ]

[Stray]: Roll call.  
[EVIE]: full squad is here  
[LuckyStars]: we're good  
[tReason]: full squad present and accounted for.  
[Reynolds]: Ditto.  
[ΩMEGA]: tlaloques and i are still fine  
[AbsOlitE]: Full squad here.  
[CaerBaer]: Four strong.  
[ccccc]: doing good cap!  
[Youngblood]: down one but still here  
[D.Va]: on my way  
[ΩMEGA]: oh shit  
[Stray]: ETA?  
[D.Va]: an hour. less.  
[CaerBaer]: In time for the final push, then.  
[Stray]: With any luck.  
[Stray]: Which is optimal. We’ll need good cooperation for that to work.  
[AbsOlitE]: I hope you don’t make a habit of coming in late and picking up the glory, D.Va.  
[D.Va]: that’s not my intention no  
[Reynolds]: Perhaps not, but your aid would have been helpful.  
[Stray]: Argue semantics another time, everyone. Stay focused.  
[ΩMEGA]: semantics he says  
[Stray]: People. Focus.

* * *

[Stray]: Heads up: Boss is swinging around at some point. The new one, I mean.  
[Stray]: Think you can make a good impression?  
To [Stray]: depends  
To [Stray]: how well do you think they’ll like a punch to the face  
[Stray]: Hm. Probably not much.  
To [Stray]: then i guess we’ll have to see

* * *

The Thunderbird is quiet for most of the flight – Satya dozing in one of the seats, Hanzo reading something on a datapad next to her, Sombra slouched in the seat furthest from the cockpit with her own monitors in front of her, typing even with her hands bound. McCree’s up with Lena in the cockpit, talking quickly and quietly, and Hana leans against 76’s side with her phone in her lap, picking it up, putting it down, staring at the opposite side of the ship, staring at nothing at all.

She’s out of the dark clothes, at least, back in the skintight suit, and it’s not much in the way of armor, but it certainly feels like it is. Her MEKA is dark and silent further down in the space; that’s a reassurance too, despite everything. She’ll be in it and in the field in less than an hour, taking charge of troops who might not be so willing to listen, and the thought is daunting but she’s glad, at least, that it’s her.

She lost a squadmate while she was gone. She wasn’t going to lose another one. (Or anyone.)

“You want me to hold onto that for you?” 76 asks, and she looks up at him. He makes a loose gesture to her phone. “Think not looking at it is just making you nervous.”

“No,” Hana says, shaking her head. “I need to stay up to date on our troops.”

“And MEKA does so through instant messaging?”

“State-of-the-art mech and you communicate through IM,” Sombra says from her corner, still looking at her screens.

“It’s effective,” Hana answers, and doesn’t get into it more than that. Her emotions are getting the better of her right now, and she doesn’t want to get into an argument.

“Sure,” Sombra says, and she drops it when both Hana and 76 level a stare her way.

“Anything we should be worried about?” he asks eventually into the silence.

“I will handle our movements,” Hana says, and then hesitates before she adds, “Our boss will be showing their face. Our new one. I am not sure in what capacity, but Stray has warned me. I do not know what to expect.”

76 doesn’t say anything at first, and she watches him contemplate, the tiny shifts of his face, the eyebrows furrowing, the slight pull to his lip. “I see,” he says, and his eyes flick over to hers a moment later. “You’ll be fine by yourself?”

“I will not be alone,” Hana says. “Overwatch will be needed elsewhere, anyway.”

“Sure,” 76 agrees, and he doesn’t push any further. She’s almost grateful; she isn’t sure what to tell him, even if she still wants some direction, some idea of where to go. She’ll be commanding the entirety of the MEKA pilots at Siberia, though, and there’s no more room for doubt. “You should sleep, if you can.”

“So should you,” she says even as she closes her eyes, gripping her phone loosely in her hand. 76’s shoulder isn’t comfortable, but it’s better than her chair she sits in, and she’s slept in worse places.

76 doesn’t answer, either way. She doesn’t push and lets her eyes close, welcoming the quiet, endless dark.

* * *

McCree looks out the window and says, “Y’know, I miss Dorado’s heat.”

“Make up your mind, McCree,” Sombra says snidely. Hana can hear 76 sigh, but she just keeps her mouth shut and goes back to flipping the switches in her MEKA. She needs to focus on other things, more important things, and she tunes out the rest as she pulls up the chat.

[ SQUAD LEADER CHAT  ]

[D.Va]: incoming  
[CaerBaer]: Welcome back, D.Va.  
[EVIE]: Eta?  
[D.Va]: ten minutes  
[Stray]: Everyone, hold off on the push, and pass it along to the Russians. If they’ll listen.  
[AbsOlitE]: Roger that.  
[ccccc]: you got it, cap!  
[Stray]: Not a captain.  
[tReason]: least there’s only one entrance left.  
[LuckyStars]: and how much of a blessing is that really  
[Reynolds]: Indeed. The longer we delay, the more time the omnics have to rally their defenses.  
[tReason]: it’s a bottleneck no matter how you cut it. they’re at a disadvantage and they know it.  
[ΩMEGA]: we don’t know how big the omnium is.  
[D.Va]: and keep in mind that it’s still active. so long as it can produce omnics we can’t win  
[ΩMEGA]: so what’s your solution?  
[CaerBaer]: Blowing it up won’t work. Unless we go deep inside.  
[CaerBaer]: And there’s no guarantee of making it out then.  
[D.Va]: @Youngblood  
[Stray]: We’ll have to see what the boss says too. Somehow, I doubt they’re going to appreciate us undermining their authority.  
[AbsolitE]: When did the boss even come into this conversation? We can please the politicians later. We’ve got a war to win.  
[ΩMEGA]: preach.  
[ccccc]: hey uh not to like freak anyone out but is anyone else seeing that giant thing in the distance  
[Youngblood]: d.va. what’s up  
[D.Va]: where’s my squad  
[Youngblood]: retreating right now  
[Stray]: Where is your group of Overwatch deploying?  
[D.Va]: i’ll send you the coordinates. youngblood, bring mim and apple and meet us there  
[Youngblood]: roger that  
[EVIE]: Uh okay so c5 that’s  
[EVIE]: I think you should maybe run  
[ccccc]: stray??  
[Stray]: I’m not seeing anything on the radar. How big are we talking?  
[tReason]: not kaiju size i hope.  
[Reynolds]: Don’t jinx it.  
[ccccc]: [image.png]  
[Stray]: Oh.  
[CaerBaer]: Jesus fucking Christ on a stick.  
[Reynolds]: You jinxed it.  
[tReason]: in my defense i wasn’t _trying_ to.

The image C-Five sends is blurred, but it isn’t difficult to parse out what she’s seeing: a giant omnic, back from the height of the omnic war, as tall as a skyscraper and with arms as thick, three legs with supporting bits snaking all along the limbs. The metal is a dull gray with glowing blue for eyes, and it isn’t as big as the omnic in the sea, but it would mow over the Russian forces in an instant. Air support would be useless against something of that size, and D.Va lets out a slow, even breath.

This isn’t impossible. There is always a way to win.

[D.Va]: anyone ever watch those old star wars movies  
[EVIE]: What  
[D.Va]: you know the ones with the lightsabers  
[EVIE]: Oh right  
[Reynolds]: That doesn’t help.  
[AbsOlitE]: How do you not know what lightsabers are?  
[ΩMEGA]: d.va, are you suggesting what i think you’re suggesting?  
[LuckyStars]: what??  
[D.Va]: i might be  
[ccccc]: well i have no idea what you’re talking about so whenever you feel like telling the rest of us feel free!!!  
[Stray]: Where are we going to get what we need for that?  
[Reynolds]: I think literally only two people understand what’s happening and that’s Stray and Ω.  
[CaerBaer]: And who are we to try to understand the machinations of our betters?  
[ΩMEGA]: that’s right i _am_ your better. get down and give me twenty, dipshit.  
[tReason]: wow.  
[CaerBaer]: Wow.  
[AbsOlitE]: Wow.

“Satya?” D.Va asks. Across the ship, Satya raises her head, then turns back to look at her. “You can make anything out of hard light, right?”

“Within reason,” Satya says, starting to move over to her.

“Can you make something pliable?” D.Va presses. “Flexible?”

“Of course,” Satya says, eyes narrowed slightly in thought. “Why?”

“Holy mother of hell,” McCree says, as if on cue. Outside his window, the omnic looms, and D.Va can see Tracer nimbly pulling at the controls at the front of the ship. “Y’all see the size of that thing?”

“We’re going to need cables,” D.Va says, and at once Satya’s eyes flash in understanding as D.Va grins and says, “Long ones.”

“Cables? How primitive,” Satya says, giving D.Va a sharp, pretty smile in return. “How about something a bit more pristine?”

* * *

[ GENERAL CHAT ]

[LockE]: The omnic is approaching fast. Nothing we hit it with penetrates. I think we have to get on the inside.  
[tlaloques]: how in god’s name are we going to do that  
[LockE]: Stray. What are your orders?  
[Stray]: Do not engage. @everyone, all teams, I’ve pinged your squad leaders a set of coordinates. Make your way to the designated location ASAP.  
[Stray]: We have a plan, but we’re going to need precise coordination. D.Va will explain once everyone arrives.  
[cr01ss4nt]: took your sweet time in showing up, eh @D.Va?  
[Primality]: russians aren’t gonna be happy about this, fyi  
[MIM]: we have other things to worry about  
[Stray]: Let’s get moving, people. Clock’s ticking.  
[tReason]: hey i just clocked the titan at ~100 km/h so let’s maybe pick up the pace?

* * *

Even in the base, Siberia is cold. D.Va’s fine in her mech, but the readings are well below freezing as she pushes deeper into the building, brushing past soldiers and personnel alike. Satya keeps pace with long, even strides, murmuring quietly to herself, but other than her, the rest of Overwatch has scattered. 76’s only parting words had been a short, curt _stay safe_ before he had peeled off with Hanzo and Tracer towards medical, and for now, D.Va cycles through the general and squad leader chat, running her speech through again in her head.

(She’s used to picking her words carefully. _One battle just like the rest_ , Hana whispers.)

“D.Va,” someone says, and she activates her side cams without a second’s thought. Stray, out of mech, deep inky shadows under his eyes, and he gives her a tired smile and says in Korean, “ _Everyone is gathered, if you are ready._ ”

“ _Understood_ ,” she said, and to Satya, “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Satya says. “The design is imperfect, but it will do. That, I can promise.”

D.Va nods and falls in behind Stray, so slim and so young in the gray bodysuit, and he leads her unerringly through the long, narrow halls. The place feels hollow, almost, echoing and somehow empty despite the bustle of people, but she doesn’t think more on it when Stray stops at a door and gestures at her to de-mech. She does so without a word.

“ _Be prepared for anything_ ,” Stray says to her. He’s worn, stretched at the seams, and she puts her hand on his arm. He doesn’t react beyond a strained smile.

“ _I will not let them down_ ,” D.Va says, and he nods and she nods and he pushes open the door.

It’s a small room—hastily-converted storage of some kind, actually, if she had to guess—and it’s filled with pilots she hasn’t seen in months. Her eyes rove over the faces, attaching names to each, committing them to memory. Mim and Apple are near the back, his hand on her shoulder, Youngblood standing near them.

Apple won’t look at her.

(Hana swallows down the hurt. D.Va clenches her fists and reaches up to sweep her hair over her shoulder. Sets her jaw. Gets ready for the oncoming fight.)

“ _Hello_ ,” she says to all of them. Stray stands at her right. She never thought she would be grateful for his presence, but there are things she’s learned to let go. Satya is on her left. Serene. Composed. “ _There is nothing I can say that will not trivialize the losses you have endured, so I won’t speak long, but know this: we will not forget them them. We will avenge them. We will make sure this does not happen again._ ”

Silence. She doesn’t expect anything else, and she takes in a breath, lets it out slowly.

“ _The omnic is Class B. They are called Titans. The one outside is approximately one hundred meters in height and, along with equipped anti-aircraft weaponry, is being protected by several VTOL-type omnics. What we’ve tried has failed to penetrate its armor, and anything else will catch Russian troops in the fire. For the moment, we will operate as though it is impervious._ ” Torbjorn’s briefing had been short and succinct, and she breathed in. “ _There is exactly one instance where a Titan was destroyed rather than remotely deactivated. This was done by entering the omnic via a panel near its foot and causing irreparable damage from within._

“ _We have known for our entire careers that our jobs require us to do dangerous things. This may be something some of us do not come back from. If you are not prepared to accept that, you are free to leave._ ” Breathe out. “ _I won’t blame you. Nor will anyone else. We’ve all lost enough, and there’s only so much left to put on the line._ ”

She waits. No one moves, standing completely still, eyes on her. Not even a whisper echoes through the space, so rigid and complete is the silence, but she doesn’t break the quiet. ( _Not yet,_ Hana whispers, _not yet_.)

Someone raises a hand, and she recognizes them as Omega. Their expression is haunted and their eyes are glassy from exhaustion.

“ _I’ve lost too many of my squad_ ,” they say. Their voice is toneless—cracked, not yet broken, but D.Va thinks of Naiad and Downtown and hears the loss in the cut of their words. “ _I can’t risk this. Not even for you._ ”

“ _Go_ ,” she says without hesitating. “ _Play to win._ ”

They nod. There’s respect there despite the shattered trust, a chasm of betrayal D.Va has no hope of crossing, and when they step out, so too does Tlaloques. Others follow—Evie, Croissant, Primality, Lucky, more and more and more—and soon there are only seven left.

( _Locke. Ten. C-Five. Stray. Youngblood. Mim._ Hana pauses, and whispers, _Apple_.)

“ _We may all die, and that will be it_ ,” she tells them anyway. MEKA pilots are rarely given a way out, and this, at least—this she wants to give.

“ _Where you go, we’ll follow_ ,” Youngblood says. Her face is ashen, guilt draining away the blood, and Hana looks at her and sees someone who tried so hard to fight for something larger than life and failed, somehow, someway. Meanwhile Locke snaps her a salute, holds it. So does Ten, and C-Five, and Mim, and D.Va looks at Apple and Apple looks back at her.

After a moment, Apple folds her hands behind her back and tilts her chin up in an unspoken challenge, and D.Va gently lets it go because it’s not a fight that she should try to win.

“ _Very well,_ ” D.Va says. She gestures to Satya, who looks over at her, gold ribbon tied around her waist that she gently rubs between the fingers of one hand. “ _This is Satya Vaswani, a hardlight architech—one of the best. She will be helping us in taking down the Titan._ ”

“ _This is like one of those old animes_ ,” C-Five says. Everyone looks to her, and she laughs and says, “ _I felt left out after the Star Wars reference. I still don’t get it._ ”

“ _D.Va will explain if you let her_ ,” Stray says. His tone is carefully neutral; C-Five takes the hint and falls silent, but the tension in the room has been lessened a little. Such was the purpose of it, D.Va supposes, and she exhales and gives a minute shake of her head.

“ _The plan is not complicated, but there is a high margin of error,_ ” she says. Nods go around the room—that’s a summary of most of MEKA’s plans, with or without her leadership. “ _But the essentials of it is that we will wrap cords around the Titan’s legs._ ”

A brief pause, spanning three heartbeats. Locke says, “ _We’re going to trip the Titan._ ”

D.Va grins. C-Five’s clapping her hands delightedly, Mim snorts and laughs, and even Stray cracks a smile when she says, “ _That is exactly what we’re going to do, yes._ ”

“ _We’ll have to move fast, then,_ ” Apple cuts in. Her voice is clipped and precise. “ _We don’t have much time before the fall radius will cause it to hit Russian forces._ ”

“ _And where are we going to get cable that long and that strong?_ ” Ten asks. A second passed, and they say, “ _Oh, wait. Architech. Overwatch sure has a lot of resources._ ”

“ _Are you sure this will work?_ ” Youngblood says, and when D.Va looks at her, she backpedals and says, “ _Not that I don’t trust you, but what if the hard light breaks? Or something else?_ ”

“It will not break,” Satya says smoothly. No one startles, but even D.Va hadn’t known that she understood Korean. “Spider silk has very unique properties and the tensile strength that far exceeds any metal you could use. I have used its chemical makeup before in my hardlight, and I know that it will serve its purpose here.”

“ _Understood_ ,” Youngblood says. The others nod.

“ _Satya will be creating a spinner of sorts—ones that we can attach to our MEKAs_ ,” D.Va says. “ _Within it will be a set length of this silk. If we time it right, the Titan will be constricted and it will fall._ ”

“ _Straight onto the omnium_ ,” Mim says, and he grins. “ _I like this plan._ ”

“ _From there, one of us, or perhaps more, will have to get into the Titan itself_ ,” D.Va says. “ _This part is a bit more uncertain—the only existing record we have of a Titan’s blueprints is of a different model. Blunt force will not work, so we will have to find a different way._ ”

“ _We’ll find it_ ,” Ten says. “ _Besides, Locke’s never found anything she can’t blow up._ ”

“ _That’s not true, but I’ll take it._ ”

“ _Focus, people_ ,” Stray says. “ _Like Apple said, we need to move fast._ ”

“I am ready to construct the spinners as well,” Satya says with a nod. “Theoretically, it will take me less than ten seconds per MEKA.”

“ _You heard her,_ ” D.Va says. More nods pass along the room, and she straightens her spine and nods back. “ _We deploy as soon as Satya has finished her work. The lives of many depend on us._ ”

“ _As always_ ,” Locke says, smile small and flinty.

“ _What about sneaking into the Titan?_ ” Youngblood asks. “ _You have no plan?_ ”

“ _We’ll figure it out as we go_ ,” D.Va says, which isn’t a satisfactory answer, she can tell, but at least Youngblood acquiesces. D.Va glances around the room and asks, “ _Any other questions?_ ”

Nothing, for a few moments. She’s just about to dismiss them all when Apple’s voice rings out into the quiet: “ _What about Hanuel, D.Va?_ ”

( _What about them, Hana?_ D.Va says, not unkindly.)

“ _If we are to destroy the omnium, we must collapse it entirely_ ,” Stray says. “ _The Titan must fall onto it, regardless of cost—_ ”

“ _You wouldn’t retrieve their body?_ ” Apple asks, almost a hiss. “ _You would leave them behind?_ ”

“ _We must put the needs of the many before the needs of the few_ ,” Stray says, not placidly but firmly. D.Va glances over at him; his expression is hard and his hands are folded tightly behind his back. “ _We’ve all lost numbers, and—_ ”

“ _I asked D.Va, not you_ ,” Apple says, brown eyes narrowed and intent on hers, and D.Va meets her gaze fearlessly.

(There’s no choice, Hana thinks. There’s never been a choice.)

“ _Tango would understand, if they were here,_ ” D.Va says. Apple sets her jaw, looks like she’s about to argue, but Mim claps a hand on her shoulder and shakes his head and she says nothing. “ _I don’t want to fight with you, Apple, and I don’t want to leave Tango there any more than you do. But there is no other option._ ”

The silence stretches, agonizing second after agonizing second. C-Five says, “ _Clock’s ticking, cap_.”

“ _I’m not in charge_ ,” Stray says. He turns to D.Va, and so does C-Five, Locke, Ten, Mim, and Apple. Somehow, it’s worse than when the entire platoon was there, and he says quietly, “D.Va. _On your orders._ ”

“ _Let’s go,_ ” she says, pivoting on her heel. Satya shadows her as she goes towards the door, and she thinks that she should maybe say something inspiring, something heroic—but all she has is quiet certainty that they will see this through, for better or for worse. Her MEKA waits outside the room, humming and alive, and the rest of her fellow pilots peel off towards the exit of the bunker as she slips into its embrace and follows them.

( _They’ve put their faith in us_ , Hana says. _We cannot let them down. Not again._ )

 _I don’t intend to_ , D.Va thinks, urging her MEKA forward, Satya serene and graceful at her side, and she narrows her eyes as they approach her waiting pilots, suited up in MEKAs of varying shapes and colors and forms. “ _Line up_ ,” she says, planting her mech’s feet, and she breathes in, breathes out as Satya lifts her hands, spins them in the air, and begins to work.

* * *

[ SQUAD LEADER CHAT ]

[Stray]: Alright.  
[Stray]: @everyone: this is official notice of turning command over to D.Va. From now on, you answer to her.  
[Reynolds]: About time.  
[D.Va]: yeah sorry  
[D.Va]: i recognize that i’m the last person you’ll want to take orders from, but right now, we don’t have a choice  
[D.Va]: if you have any reason to not listen to me, say so now  
[ccccc]: do i still have to listen if im not technically squad leader anymore  
[Stray]: C5.  
[ccccc]: sorry lol  
[D.Va]: if no one else has issues, then here are your orders  
[D.Va]: caerbaer, stay on extraction duty. you have antigone and lambda with you?  
[CaerBaer]: Correct.  
[D.Va]: where’s venus?  
[CaerBaer]: She’s out. Broken spine, a few vertebrae. Expected to make a full recovery.  
[D.Va]: good. stay with the sergeant zaryanova and go where you’re needed  
[CaerBaer]: Understood.  
[D.Va]: evie, you’re with caer  
[EVIE]: Why  
[D.Va]: land vehicles are at risk with a titan so close. your mekas will have a better chance of evasive movement and will be faster besides  
[EVIE]: If you say so  
[EVIE]: CaerBaer, send me your coordinates  
[CaerBaer]: Done. See you on the other side.  
[D.Va]: Ω, it’s just you and tlaloques?  
[ΩMEGA]: yes.  
[D.Va]: join up with reynolds. you’re both on the offense. take the fire for the russian forces at the one exit the omnics have  
[Reynolds]: As you say.  
[ΩMEGA]: we’ll make it happen.  
[D.Va]: treason  
[tReason]: sup.  
[D.Va]: you’re on auxiliary support  
[D.Va]: stay close to Ω and reynolds and catch any stragglers  
[tReason]: on it.  
[D.Va]: lucky, keep acting as transport between base and the front lines  
[D.Va]: the medics tell me your work is essential. keep it up  
[LuckyStars]: you got it  
[D.Va]: absolite  
[AbsOlitE]: Ready.  
[D.Va]: keep an eye on the titan and track its movements. you’re an aerial group so watch for the fighter jets and take them out if you can  
[D.Va]: be careful and don’t risk yourselves. the titan has a lot of protection and its own guns besides  
[AbsOlitE]: Relax.  
[AbsOlitE]: It won’t see us coming.  
[D.Va]: in general, everyone be aware of where the titan is and minimize the damage it will cause  
[D.Va]: when our plan has been executed, stray or youngblood or i will let you know  
[D.Va]: though i think you’ll be able to tell on your own  
[ΩMEGA]: ㅋㅋㅋ  
[D.Va]: good luck out there  
[D.Va]: we’ve lost too many and we’re not going to lose more, so stay fast and stay safe  
[D.Va]: remember, we play to win  
[CaerBaer]: That doesn’t get any less cringey when you say it again and again, you know.

* * *

“ _The spinners will deploy when you press the trigger I have given you_ ,” Satya says through the comms. D.Va is at the head of their little formation, Youngblood and Stray flanking her, the rest behind. The Titan looms, perilously tall, and although each step is slow, the distance it covers is significant. It would be over the ominium in several minutes and on top of the Russians soon after. “ _Keep in mind that there is a finite amount of thread. You will have a large margin of error, but I would recommend watching your timing._ ”

“Roger that,” D.Va says in English. She could speak Korean, but beyond Satya, Torbjörn and Dr. Ziegler were on the line as well, and all of her fellow pilots spoke English adequately enough.

“ _I don’t recognize the model_ ,” Torbjörn says, as if on cue. “ _Or I do, but it’s been heavily modified. Once it’s fallen, turn on your cams so I can take a look._ ”

“Understood,” D.Va says. Their MEKAs skim across the snow and ice, dodging through the sparse landscape and closing in fast on the Titan’s feet. It’s smaller than the omnic in the sea, but size is relative; there reaches a point where something huge is simply huge. Compared to the Russian troops around them, fighting in the bitterly cold wind and snow, hunkered down and giving the omnics as good as they got with tanks and guns and even their own mechas that are bulkier than MEKAs, it is infinitely large and invincible.

But they haven’t stopped fighting.

The Russians have already lost so many—thousands, the last time D.Va checked the numbers. The Titan would kill so many more if left to its own devices, and she grimaces and pushes a little harder on the rocket boosters. Any omnics standing in their way are no match for her defense matrix and their little group’s combined fire, and how easy it would be for all of them to die here too if they aren’t careful.

( _No more_ , Hana whispers. _Not again_.)

“Stray, take your group left,” D.Va says, the Titan looming so far above them as they draw closer. “My squad, we’re going right.”

“ _Got it_ ,” Stray says in Korean. “ _C-Five, nothing drastic, please. All of you, stay tight_.”

“Youngblood, Apple, go high. Mim, stay beneath me. Ready for this?”

“ _Aye aye_ ,” Mim says. It’s hard to tell if he’s grinning, but D.Va’s willing to bet that he is. “ _Lead the way_.”

There isn’t time for words after that—the Titan is so, so close, and D.Va pulls back on her controls and flies up, her MEKA responding beautifully despite the cold. Her squad flanks her and retains their formation when they straighten out at the Titan’s knee joints, and she shouts, “Now!” and presses the trigger.

“ _Spinners deployed_ ,” Stray says a moment later, voice tight. “ _Let’s hope this works._ ”

It’s impossible to see the hardlight thread, so fine and infinitesimal in the snowy conditions. D.Va doesn’t spend time to look, circling around the Titan’s legs as fast as her squad can manage; her squad stays close as she goes, and she catches a glimpse of Stray’s squad as they pass by her in the opposite direction.

It doesn’t take long for the spider silk to work, however; just as Satya had promised, the thread is thin and light and incredibly strong. A few passes are enough to restrict the Titan’s steps, just barely noticeable, and C-Five laughs into the comms as the Titan pauses mid-step, easily catching its balance and looking down towards its feet.

“ _That’s bad_ ,” Stray says. “ _It knows we’re here._ ”

“Move fast and spread out,” D.Va says, activating her topmost camera. The Titan is tracking them, though it doesn’t slow its strides. Prioritizing, and she switches channels to the general one and says, “Absolite?”

A second passes. Then Absolite’s voice, steady and clear: “ _I read you._ ”

“ _We need a distraction_ ,” she says in Korean. “ _Keep the Titan’s attention off of us._ ”

There’s static for a few moments; then Absolite says, “ _Understood. Zcheletor, Avrex, on me. We’re going up._ ”

It’s been so long since she’s held command, and she breathes out, slowly. “ _Be careful_.”

“ _Your faith in us is inspiring, D.Va_ ,” Absolite says, amused and so, so gentle. She swallows down the split-second of anger; she is not a child, but Absolite is a decade her senior, and she can’t fault them that. “ _We’ll keep it busy. Do what you have to._ ”

“ _Understood_ ,” she said, switching back to the other channel. It’s silent, and she says, “The plan is unchanged. We continue until the spinners run out.”

“ _Or the Titan falls_ ,” Locke says. Her English is accented and precise. “ _Whichever comes first._ ”

D.Va’s topmost cam picks up movement—Absolite’s squad, flying close together yet maintaining a careful distance from each other. It doesn’t take long for them to draw the Titan’s attention, and the space between them allows each to pull off the kind of evasive maneuvers D.Va could never do with her MEKA’s weight. They don’t get shot down, not immediately, and D.Va turns her attention back to her task, steering her MEKA around and around and around.

“ _Spool’s at half_ ,” Mim says after a while. “ _Someone with a better scanner clock in the speed._ ”

“ _Thirty kilometers an hour_ ,” Ten says immediately. “ _You’ll note that it’s shuffling along._ ”

“ _Still can’t see the thread, though_ ,” Youngblood says. “ _Impressive._ ”

“Stay focused,” D.Va says. “We’re close, but we’re not there yet.”

* * *

[ GENERAL CHAT ]

[tReason] : hey was anyone going to tell me the new boss of MEKA is an omnic?

* * *

“ _D.Va_ ,” Satya says over the comm.

“I hear you,” D.Va says. Absolite and their squad continue to wreak havoc up above, and she keeps an absent eye on them as she circles around the Titan’s legs.

“ _There is someone who wishes to speak with you. Is this a good time, or should I attempt to delay?_ ”

“Who is it?” D.Va says. 76, possibly, but somehow she doubts it.

“ _She is a businesswoman. Her name is Katya Volskaya._ ”

* * *

[ GENERAL CHAT ]

[EVIE]: head’s up there’s a sniper out there  
[Primality]: the new boss is an omnic?

* * *

“ _That’s the CEO of Volskaya Industries_ ,” Stray says. “ _It makes sense that she’s here, but why would she want to speak with you?_ ”

“Did she say why?” D.Va asks, unease coiling tight in her gut. The spinner had a quarter of thread left, and the Titan was starting to slow to a stop, teetering dangerously with every passing second.

“ _No. Only that she wished to speak to the lost hero that MEKA once so proudly touted, to quote her words._ ”

“ _Sounds like an asshole_ ,” Mim says.

“ _I’m inclined to agree_ ,” Locke says.

Another comm channel lights up, and D.Va says, “Just a moment, Satya,” before clicking over. “D.Va here.”

“ _D.Va. We’re pulling out. It’s too dangerous for us to stay, and it looks like you’ve got it covered._ ”

“Roger that. Thanks, Absolite.”

“ _That’s what we do. Absolite out._ ”

“ _She’s the most powerful woman in Russia_ ,” Stray is saying when she switches back over. “ _This isn’t something—or someone—you can just refuse to speak to._ ”

“Too bad,” D.Va says, making the decision in an instant. “We have other things to worry about, and the thread’s almost run out. It’s now or never.”

“ _I’ll inform her that you are occupied_ ,” Satya says.

“ _Activate your cameras, Hana_ ,” Torbjörn says, and D.Va nods to herself as she reaches up to do so. It doesn’t take up any space on her HUD, but she knows back in the base, Torbjörn will have a clear view of what she’s seeing. “ _Once it falls, sweep along the legs starting at its base. There is usually a panel at its ankle._ ”

“Understood,” she said, and then her MEKA jerked: the thread had run out, and she grimaced as her squadmates shot a bit ahead of her before they, too, jolted to a sudden halt. “Everyone, pull the thread as tightly as you can. We need this Titan to fall.”

“ _Roger that_ ,” Stray says. “ _Be aware that you’re underneath its shadow. You’ll have to move fast to avoid being crushed._ ”

“ _Delightful_ ,” Mim says, falsely chipper. “ _Just want you want to hear on a Friday afternoon._ ”

* * *

[ GENERAL CHAT ]

[ΩMEGA]: oh that’s beautiful.  
[ΩMEGA]: and so a titan falls.  
[cr01ss4nt]: prepare for titanfall!  
[Reynolds]: Anyone know why the Russians have suddenly become ten times more enthusiastic?

* * *

She can feel the exact moment the Titan loses its balance, a grinding that vibrates in her MEKA and in her ears, and Stray shouts something that’s lost in the noise as she hits a different button on the trigger and the spinner drops away. Her squad copies her exactly, and the four of them rocket out from underneath the Titan as it first falls to its knees, then plummets forward to crash into the ground so far below.

“ _Why didn’t it catch itself on its hands?_ ” Mim asks. “ _I’m just thinking of this now, but I’m curious._ ”

“Because that would rip its shoulders out of their sockets,” D.Va says, speeding towards the Titan’s feet. Her squad falls in behind her—Stray’s, too, and she aims her camera down at the leg as she says, “Torbjörn, do you see anything?”

“ _Get closer. The weather does us no favors—_ ”

“ _D.Va, Ms. Volskaya is very insistent_ ,” Satya cuts in. Her voice is still calm and collected, no sign of distress, and D.Va just keeps moving. “ _She is not eager to take no for an answer._ ”

“I am not going to abandon this mission for the sake of a politician,” D.Va says, biting back the acidity. It’s not Satya’s fault, and Katya Volskaya must really be pressuring her if she felt the need to reach out and inform D.Va as such. “Blame me. Tell her that I will not listen because I am stubborn and think her demands are frivolous.”

“ _Oh, so like always_ ,” Mim says, laughing.

“ _Very well_ ,” Satya says, no trace of uncertainty. “ _I apologize for interrupting, Torbjörn._ ” Torbjörn only grunts, and D.Va flicks through the options of her MEKA as she carefully goes over the Titan’s leg. She doesn’t have a powerful scanner, but she can try.

“ _Incoming_ ,” Youngblood says suddenly. “ _Stray, on your six. Looks like the Titan’s escorts caught up with us._ ”

“ _Oh, is that all?_ ” Stray says. “ _We’ll cover you, D.Va. Ten, C-Five, Locke, let’s go._ ”

“ _Aye aye, cap._ ”

“ _Not a captain, C-Five._ ”

“ _Check above the legs if you don’t find a panel on this one, Hana_ ,” Torbjörn says in the meantime. “ _If it’s not on one, it’s unlikely to be on the others. A safeguard against one of them being blown clean off, if I had to guess._ ”

“Roger that,” D.Va says, sweeping the metal quickly and carefully, checking all sides as best as she is able. She can’t imagine how such a thing could happen—the Titan is massive—but Torbjörn is likely to know better than her.

“ _Escorts on our five o’clock low, five hundred meters and closing fast_ ,” Mim says. “ _D.Va?_ ”

“Go ahead and engage. Youngblood, stay with Mim, and Apple, flank if you can.” The orders would be natural if not for the unfamiliarity of Youngblood’s name, and D.Va shakes her head slightly and continues to scan. “Make it quick.”

“ _Always do. Let’s go, team._ ”

There’s nothing on the leg as she continues scanning, painstakingly passing over the thin thread that glints in the light—she’s at the junction between leg and main body when Stray and his squad catch up to her, with Mim and Apple and Youngblood joining her soon after, and they all wordlessly join her in her search. She feels the seconds tick by like a physical weight, and she’s sure that the others do, too, but she doesn’t dare try to rush any faster than she already is. Better to be methodical and miss nothing than have to check the same area twice.

“ _Hey, hey, this is good, I think_ ,” Ten says. “ _Right here on the, uh, hip thing. Looks like you could remove this panel if you wanted to. Maybe we can use that?_ ”

“ _How do we get it off?_ ” Stray asks. Torbjörn is silent aside from mutterings in his mother tongue, the sounds unfamiliar over her ears.

“ _Not sure. Locke?_ ”

“ _Not every problem can be solved with explosives, Ten._ ”

“ _Let me try. Cover me._ ”

“ _Careful, C-Five_ ,” Stray says just before there’s a grinding screech of metal on metal, and then a moment later, “ _Or I suppose that works. You’ll have to get that foot repaired, though._ ”

“ _Not my fault that I thought to use it as a lever. We have a way in!_ ”

“Torbjörn, my squadmates have found a way inside,” D.Va says, panning her camera up and speeding towards where Stray’s silver MEKA. She settled into the spot next to him as she said, “How should we proceed?”

“ _You’ll need to traverse up the spine. With a Titan that large, there will be sufficient space for you to handle your MEKAs._ ”

“ _Careful_ ,” Ten says. “ _There’s a lot of activity in this thing—omnics inside the omnic, if you will_.”

“ _Omnic-ception._ ”

“ _Yes. That. Thank you, C-Five._ ”

“ _No problem._ ”

“ _Your squadmate’s scans indicate that the Titan is running self-repair protocols_ ,” Torbjörn went on as if Ten hadn’t spoken. “ _Both for itself and for other omnics. Be prepared for resistance when you go inside._ ”

“ _This is just like entering a dungeon in a video game_ ,” Locke says, entirely deadpan. “ _Hooray. Can we go down a difficulty?_ ”

“ _Let’s just get it done_ ,” Stray says. In accented English, he asks, “ _How many of us can enter at once?_ ”

“ _It will be tight, but all of you could if you really wanted to_ ,” Torbjörn replies. “S _ome of you should monitor the situation from the exterior, however. If the thread snaps, you’ll have bigger problems on your hands._ ”

“ _The thread will not break_ ,” Satya says coolly.

“ _In the happenstance that it does, it’s best to be prepared,_ ” Torbjörn countered. D.Va held back a sigh as he swept on, “ _Four at most. That’s my advice._ ”

“ _Why are we listening to an old man, exactly?_ ” Youngblood says.

“ _Torbjörn Lindholm designed many of the omnics that are around today_ ,” D.Va answers in Korean, entirely flat. “ _Watch your tone._ ”

Youngblood doesn’t reply. Torbjörn says, “ _You need to get moving. The Russians have already lost a sizeable number of their troops, and the longer you hesitate, the more that die._ ”

“Roger that,” D.Va says in English. She looks to Stray’s MEKA, then at the others around her. She can’t see their faces, but seeing the color in the stark white and gray is a reassurance, somehow. “Stray, would you rather stay out here or—”

“ _Go,_ ” he says, and she watches his MEKA tuck its guns beneath itself, shifting its feet to give her a slight bow. Deference, respect, and a farewell all at once, and she returns the gesture as he says, “ _We’ll keep watch out here._ ”

“Understood,” she says, and C-Five steps back to show the missing panel, the small, cramped space beyond. It can fit her MEKA, though, so many not as cramped as it could be, and she says, “ _Mim, Apple, Youngblood, with me._ ”

“ _Aye aye_ ,” Mim says.

“ _Lead the way_ ,” Youngblood says.

(Apple doesn’t say anything. _She’s following_ , Hana whispers, and D.Va pays it no mind.)

* * *

[ GENERAL CHAT ]

[skyeyes]: hey someone @ that russian pilot with the callsign oka nieba  
[LuckyStars]: sky you pop into chat for the first time in a week and this is what you say  
[skyeyes]: oka nieba means sky eyes  
[skyeyes]: there can only be one  
[LuckyStars]: get back in team chat  
[skyeyes]: make me asshole  
[LuckyStars]: i know where you keep your comic book stash  
[skyeyes]: fine.  
[AbsOlitE]: @Reynolds, Katya Volskaya is at the base.  
[tlaloques]: wait _what_

* * *

The interior of the omnic is considerably quieter than the outside. There’s a loud, pervasive hum that echoes in the safety of her MEKA, but other than that, it’s quiet save for her squadmates’ MEKAs tromping alongside hers. The halls—if she can call them halls—are narrow and poorly-lit by narrow lights studded along the walkway, which is currently lining the space on her right, and it’s no warmer in here than it is out there, at least in this portion of the Titan.

She’s not sure how long they’ve been walking when the space opens up. Somewhere along the torso, she would suspect, though she can’t know without Ten’s scanners, and she slows to a stop and feels her squadmates pull up behind her. There’s plenty of room to maneuver here and the humming is louder, but it’s still fairly dark and difficult to see.

There is one difference, though: omnics, smaller ones, scuttling about with seemingly no set path in mind. With the Titan fallen, no doubt they were attempting to bring it back to their feet, and none of them seemed to notice D.Va’s bubblegum pink MEKA standing nearby but ultimately out of the way. She activates her mech’s scanners and looks beyond: more omnics, hardly taller than her knee, zipping around each other with an unearthly speed and grace, and she casts her eyes up and sees more of them flying about doing the same.

[MIM]: self-repair protocols  
[Youngblood]: they haven’t noticed us yet  
[Youngblood]: you think they’re violent?  
[D.Va]: let’s not risk it. move slow

She takes in a breath, holds it, and pushes her left hand forward. Her MEKA takes a single step; in the quiet hum, the sounds echoes like a gunshot, and she watches with growing resignation as every glowing point in the room turns to face her.

[MIM]: so much for that  
[MIM]: ready when you are

“ _Don’t shoot unless they do_ ,” D.Va says in Korean, and—none of the omnics do, in fact, all of them turning away and disappearing into the darkness. ( _Not a good sign_ , Hana whispers.) “ _Stay on guard_.”

“ _I have a bad feeling about this_ ,” Youngblood whispers.

For a few more seconds, there’s no movement at all. D.Va hardly dares to breath, fingers twitching on her controls, and behind her, her squadmates are still and silent. It would be suspenseful if it wasn’t terrifying, and when nothing else happened, D.Va carefully, slowly, takes another step forward, hovering over the activation of her defense matrix.

It’s the smart move, in the end, because the instant she moves, the instant there’s gunfire, precise and focused. Keeping damage localized, minimizing risk to the Titan’s interior, and she shouts into the comms, “ _Mim, Apple, find it, don’t let it escape_ ,” as she deflects the bullets precisely and quickly. The rate of fire is nowhere near a Siege Automaton unit, child’s play, and Mim and Apple shoot past her as Youngblood stays close and tight. The barrage is constant, though, never-ending, and she can see Mim and Apple move about the space on her scanners.

Whatever is shooting at her is highly mobile. Not a good sign, and it occurs to her that she’s deflected this exact pattern of gunfire before. Not only before, but—often, and she shouts, “ _What is it?_ ”

“ _It’s—uh, shit, I can’t—it’s—_ ”

“ _I can’t fucking believe this_ ,” Apple says, the first time she’s spoken since they left the base, and she repeats, “ _I can’t believe this, I can’t fucking believe this, I—_ ”

( _A MEKA_ , Hana whispers, and there’s a straight shot of ice-cold fear down D.Va’s spine.)

Something lands in front of her with a solid clang, shifting and moving in ways that are as familiar as breathing, guns firing in steady, rhythmic pulses. It shines blue in the dim light and the canopy is closed, opaque gray armor, almost entirely bulletproof and harder than diamond; D.Va doesn’t falter with her defense matrix even as her mouth goes dry. Mim and Apple are still out there in the space somewhere, shouting to each other as they take out omnics yet unseen, and behind her, Youngblood lets out a single, small whimper.

* * *

[ 밈 시티 ]

[takes22tango]: @D.Va, so glad you could join us.  
[takes22tango]: How have you been?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends!
> 
> it's been almost a year since i last updated, and now... i am finally taking TDLH off hiatus. [party popper emoji] if you're wondering why it was on hiatus in the first place, look no further than COLLEGE WAS KICKING MY ASS. that's right! for the cheap, cheap price of AN ABSURDLY HIGH TUITION, you, too, can experience the SOUL-SUCKING EDUCATIONAL SYSTEM THAT WILL KICK YOUR ASS. ... altho for real, dw i'm fine. i was just a busy bee with lots of other things that needed doing c:
> 
> so! here we are. reaper and soldier: 76 have a little heart-to-heart with guns. hana is in siberia and leading MEKA around with skill and finesse (one would hope) and is taking down a titan (re: torb's comic). apple is devastated and angry. mim is cracking jokes. the MEKA pilots are tired and the russians are suffering heavy casualties. tango is also here??? weird! a little scary! definitely creepy! what's next for our intrepid heroine?? where the hell is overwatch in all of this?? find out next time (or the next few times) on TDLH!!!!!!
> 
> as always, many thanks to betas, particularly [@roguevector](http://roguevector.tumblr.com) \- he had several ideas (and a deep knowledge of mech design) that helped this chapter be a lot better than the first draft, and i am grateful for his help along with [@costumebleh's](http://costumebleh.tumblr.com) <3 additionally, some references in the chapter if you didn't catch them: attack on titan ([ccccc]), titanfall ([cr01ss4nt]), ace combat ([skyeyes]).
> 
> and now, at long last, some headcanons! MEKA-flavored this time around for extra deliciousness.
> 
> \- as hinted throughout the chapter, the glass canopy on hana's MEKA is an exception: literally every other mech used in MEKA have armored canopies. in rogue's words, this is because "Hana's reflexes are faster than a screen's refresh rate/camera's shutter speed," given her absurdly high APM  
> \- not all MEKAs look like hana's, with hers being heavily reliant on defense matrix and shotgun damage. some are built for prolonged air support; others are built to withstand large amounts of damage. even more are highly specialized.  
> \- take [10JQK]'s, which employs a more powerful scanner and defense matrix, and [Locke]'s, who swapped the shotguns on the MEKA's arms for grenade launchers (and has additional machine guns besides). many squads are grouped together based on these specialties; for example, [CaerBaer]'s squad is on extraction duty to their reliance on speed and stealth. you should be able to figure out the (general) specialization of each MEKA squad based on where hana ordered them to go in this chapter  
> \- the colors on a pilot's MEKA match the color of their text name. for colorblind pilots, they can look to see the pilot's emblem on each arm, front, and back of the MEKA  
> \- speaking of which, every pilot has their own emblem. some have them from their streamer/champion gamer days, like hana, but others make their own  
> \- livestreaming a fight is a high-risk, high-reward maneuver. your fans will root for you and this has been shown to increase pilot morale, but each time a pilot dies live, MEKA's public image suffers. after the fifth death, a new regulation was enacted wherein each pilot's handler decides whether their pilot should livestream and when. handlers also have the ability to shut down the stream remotely when they suspect something might happen (this has let to protests from pilots, especially the ones who survived the potential deadly event, but has decreased livestreamed deaths to zero. the only exception to this rule? hana song)  
> \- some MEKA pilots like to keep air fresheners in their mechs. one of the more popular smells is green tea  
> \- MEKAs can be driven without the bodysuit, but it is extremely uncomfortable, especially since the bodysuits are designed in such a way to facilitate eating, drinking, and urinating. many pilots, however, will wear lucky articles of clothing, including hats, scarves, gloves, jewelry, or other small accessories  
> \- some superstitions:  
> — don't use a pilot's real name on a mission, as it will bring bad luck to the named pilot in particular  
> — painting your nails to the colors of your squads' MEKAs will bring good luck  
> — driving your MEKA without gloves (for some pilots, their lucky gloves) will undoubtedly lead to ruin  
> — pilots can and should play music, but playing anything with no electronic instruments whatsoever is extremely bad luck
> 
> c-c-come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/)!

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)! 
> 
> also some points of interest:
> 
> \- [fanart](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)!!!  
> \- [fanworks](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/tagged/fanwork)!!!  
> \- [fan playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLiPl0nJeHaq1a_gUqE0r1F05Rilt2RGvD)!!!  
> \- [liveblogs of this fic](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/tagged/liveblog) c:  
> \- [backstage](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/tagged/thanks-dad-love-hana-backstage) (extra fic, worldbuilding questions, etc.)  
> \- [extra fic i've written](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/tagged/thanks-dad-love-hana-extras)  
> \- [overwatch character/ship discourse](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/tagged/discourse)  
> \- [if tracer made vines](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/tagged/if-tracer-made-vines)  
> \- [if mccree was a cat person](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/tagged/if-mccree-was-a-cat-person)  
> \- [so reinhardt walks into a bar...](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/tagged/reinhardt-walks-into-a-bar)  
> 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Flirting with death](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7959055) by [Madwolf023](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madwolf023/pseuds/Madwolf023)
  * [Jesse McCree: How He Got His BAMF Buckle, and Why He Still Wears It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8334577) by [NemoTheSurvivor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NemoTheSurvivor/pseuds/NemoTheSurvivor)
  * [The Hattening 2076](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8632792) by [RogueVector](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueVector/pseuds/RogueVector)
  * [Overwatch: Lost in Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9598958) by [Raven6229](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven6229/pseuds/Raven6229)




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